Phanniemay Shorts
by FiveRivers
Summary: Hello! These are one-shots for the Phanniemay challenge! Now doing the 2019 prompts! Rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Thank you for reading this. This is my first post, so I'm still figuring out the formatting. Please bear with me!**

Day 1: Electricity

Danny had never been sure if it really had been the electricity that killed him.

Oh, to be sure, he was being electrocuted _while_ he died, and the voltage had certainly been enough to kill him. The electricity certainly _could_ have killed him. _Would_ have killed him. But then there was the issue of a reality itself being torn asunder where he stood, and an entire universe opening up through his body and soul to consider. Not to mention ecto-contamination, although, at this point in his... existence... Danny was seriously starting to doubt that ecto-contamination was anywhere near as dangerous as his parents said it was.

Anyway.

Regardless of whether or not the electricity _had_ killed him, Danny _despised_ being electrocuted. It reminded far too much of dying.

Vlad knew this.

Whether or not any of the other ghosts knew this was kind of up in the air. However, what many ghosts certainly did know was that electricity-based attacks hurt Danny far more than other attacks of similar level. They knew that sometimes he was even affected more than a human would be. In other words, they knew that electricity was something of a weakness for the young ghost. So they used it. Walker used it, Vortex used it, the Observants used it, the one time Danny'd had the misfortune of running into them. Skulker and Technus, who had more access to such attacks than the average ghost used electrical attacks almost exclusively.

Which meant that, despite Danny's best efforts, what happened was probably inevitable.

He had been fighting Tecnus who, somehow, had gotten hold of some of Vlad's nastier inventions, ie the ones that electrocuted Danny. Luckily, the loud-mouthed and extremely annoying ghost hadn't any of the ones that shorted out Danny's powers. Therefore, the fight would have been just about normal, except that they were fighting in the school media room. Rather close quarters- quarters that Danny was restricted to by the fact that Tucker and Sam were with him, as well as the Dempsey twins, Nathan and Lester.

Sam was trying to get the twins out, which was complicated by all the wires in the rooms, and Tucker was trying to do... something with his PDA. Honestly, Danny hadn't heard what he was trying, only that it might somehow kick Technus out of one or more of Vlad's inventions. In any case, Danny was more than occupied with keeping Technus from electrocuting him into unconsciousness.

That was actually going fairly well but... Well. Technus knew Danny.

Danny saw the wires headed towards Sam, Nathan, and Lester out of the corner of his eye and dove to intercept them. He managed to get a shield up, but he didn't see the machine – one of Vlad's, box-shaped with circular protuberances – coming at him from the other side.

It smashed into him and kept going, bulldozing him directly into Tucker. Then, just as he realized that _on top of_ his friend was _way_ too close under these circumstances, thick, faintly green, cables spooled out of the box's holes, wrapping around both teens-

And then the pain started.

It wasn't as bad as the portal accident in a physical sense. No, in that regard, this shock was hardly worth noticing.

In every other respect, it was worse. He could hear Tucker screaming- and then he couldn't. And, gosh, the cables were in pieces all across the room- which looked pretty worse for wear itself. It looked as if all the equipment on one wall had been straight up vaporized. Had he done that? The ghost alarm was finally going off somewhere else in the school. He could hear students crowding through the hallways just past the door. And Technus was just standing there, bereft of any usable tech, staring at Danny.

"Ghost Child," croaked Technus, "I- I am sorry I- I didn't know- I-"

This was enough to bring Danny somewhat back to his senses. He snarled one word at the older ghost, "Leave!" before whirling, his eyes searching for his friends. There was Sam, more hesitant than he had ever seen her before, at the door. She must have gotten the twins out earlier... and now memory of the fight was trickling back... Before trashing the media room he had hidden Tucker- There!

Oh, jeeze, he wasn't breathing, he wasn't-

Danny stopped himself. He knew CPR, and then some. He checked Tucker's breathing again, and his pulse. Still nothing.

Sam slid up next to him. "He's not breathing?" she asked, breathless.

"No."

"Pulse?"

"No."

"I'll get the defibrilla-"

"No time. It'll take five minutes to get to the office and back, even at a run. I'll have to do this. Get ready to call 9-1-1."

Sam stood up. "Have to find a phone!" she shouted over her shoulder as she ran out.

Danny, meanwhile, had splayed his left hand over Tucker's chest, letting invisibility spread over the other boy's flesh and bones. Danny wasn't giving Tucker complete invisibility, just enough so that he could see his heart. His heart, which was, he could now see, quivering in the throes of fibrillation. Good. That was something Danny could fix.

He made his right hand intangible, and carefully edged his finger towards the sinoarterial node of the heart. Danny wasn't one-hundred percent sure what it was made of, but what he did know was that the little cluster of cells located in the upper right-hand side of the heart was the thing that sent the heart the instruction to beat, and the thing that defibrillators actually targeted. One of the articles Danny had read had called it the heart's 'natural pacemaker.'

Once the tip of Danny's finger was located firmly within the cluster, Danny built up a teeny-tiny ecto-electrical charge, and then let it go.

Danny could rarely bring himself to use that particular power in a fight. Before his sister, Jazz, had convinced him that he could use it to defibrilate people, the only reason that he had practiced with it at all was because Tucker had been (and still was) convinced that Danny could use it to recharge his PDAs.

The irony was not lost on Danny as his friend's heart stuttered back to life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi again! This one is a bit more silly than the last one. Thank you for reading**

Day 2: Green

"Hey, Sam?" asked Tucker from his prone position on Sam's basement floor.

"Yeah?" said Sam, similarly prone on the couch. They were waiting for Danny, who had to stop by his house in order to empty the thermos.

"Why isn't Danny green?"

Sam rolled over to get a better look at Tucker, and put her book down. "What?"

"I mean, when he's a ghost," clarified Tucker.

Sam blinked at him, then frowned. "Not all ghosts are green to begin with, Tucker. There's the Box Ghost, for one, Sidney Poindexter for another. Walker. Johnny 13. Ember. Frostbite and all the Far Frozen. Vlad. I could probably go on."

"Yeah," said Tucker slowly. He'd had his eyes glued to his PDA the whole time, but now he looked up at Sam. "But most ghosts _are_ green. Or partially green. Or cyan, which is sorta green..."

"And your point is?"

"I don't know, I was just wondering why."

"Why what?"

Both Sam and Tucker jumped, only now noticing Danny coming down the stairs.

"How do you keep doing that?" asked Sam irritably. She had fallen off the sofa.

"Doing what?" asked Danny. "And are you okay?"

"Sneaking up on us like that," she said, getting back into a sitting position.

Danny frowned. "I don't mean to," he said, hunching his shoulders a little.

Sam rolled her eyes. "I know, Danny. I'm more annoyed at myself than anything."

"Okay," said Danny, swinging off his backpack and sitting gingerly on the couch. It always took him a while to get comfortable in Sam's house. He was always worried that he'd break something hideously expensive. "So, what were you talking about?"

"Why ghosts are green," supplied Tucker, now also sitting up.

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Because they're made of ectoplasm, which is mostly green?"

"Yeah, but not _all_ of them are green."

"Well," said Danny, settling back a little bit, "not all ectoplasm is green either. You know that. You see Vlad use pink ectoplasm all the time."

"But Vlad isn't pink. He's blue."

"Yeah, well, um. Under his skin he's pink... But... Look. Give me a second." Danny leaned back, looking at the ceiling and rubbing the back of his neck. "So, there is another reason for different colors, but it's kinda weird."

"Dude, these are ghosts we're talking about. Everything is weird."

"I guess. So. What a ghost looks like is partially dependent on self-image, right?"

"Yeah," said Sam, "but if that determined color, wouldn't they all look normal?"

"That'd be true," said Danny, "except for two things: one, not all ghosts used to be alive, and two, the self-image thing is mostly subconscious. So, for Walker, he sees everything in black and white, so that's what he is. Ember wants to be famous and popular on both sides, so she looks more human. That kind of thing. Also, I think power levels factor into it, so by the time you're strong enough to change what you look like like that, you've gotten used to being green or blue or whatever."

"And Vlad?"

Danny huffed. "Honestly, I don't know what his problem is."

"Okay," said Tucker. "So why aren't you green? I mean, you were never green, and you were pretty weak in the beginning, so..."

Danny stared at him, then groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Thanks, Tucker. Now I'll be thinking about that all day."


	3. Chapter 3

Day 3: DNA/Ghost Tech

Jack Fenton had invented many things over the years. Some of them were silly, like the Fenton Toaster, others were practical, like Fenton-Wipe, still others were for his life-long passion of ghost hunting, like his numerous ecto-blasters. One invention that he was particularly proud of, however, was his quick-acting DNA scanner. The scanner took under a quarter of a second to complete a scan. That meant that it was practical to attach to ecto-blasters, as a kind of anti-theft policy. Ecto-weaponry could be dangerous, after all! With the DNA scanner attached, only Fenton-family members, all of whom had been scanned and recorded previously, could use the weapons.

This made what Jack was seeing impossible.

He glanced over at his wife, who looked equally troubled. Yes, she knew the significance of what was happening. Jack looked back out of the Fenton Assault Vehicle. Only a few meters away, the Phantom was shooting at a large, tentacled ghost. This in itself was not unusual, what was unusual was that a few minutes ago, before the appearance of the larger ghost, the Fentons had shot Phantom with a weapon designed to disable his powers, and that, once the larger ghost had shown itself, Phantom had responded by stealing one of the Fenton's weapons and shooting it.

Danny thought that he was doing rather well, considering that whatever his parents had shot him with had disabled all his active powers except for flight. The problem was that, even with the ecto-gun he'd grabbed from his mother, it wasn't going to be enough.

"Hey, Sam, Tucker? What's your ETA on that backup?"

The Fenton Phone in his ear crackled to life. "Uhh," said Tucker, "maybe ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes?!" Danny ducked a swing from one of the other ghost's tentacles, and then dove to sweep an unfortunate pedestrian out of the way.

"It wouldn't be that long, but your parents've put that DNA scanner thing on all the big stuff so we're having a hard time finding something we can use that won't just annoy Mr McTentacles over there."

Danny glanced down at his own weapon, which was longer than he was, and probably heavier too (thank the ancients that his passive abilities hadn't been shut down). It definitely counted as 'big stuff.'

Another attack from the larger ghost captured his attention. Whatever the fallout from using something that was DNA-locked was going to be, he would have to deal with it later.

"Then get a hold of Jazz or something!"

"She's still on her way from the library," said Sam.

"Hey! Ghost!"

Danny internally winced at the new voice, but kept his aim steady. Valerie. Maybe for once she would shoot at the other ghost first, this time? Surely, even she could see that it was the greater threat.

Thankfully, the red-suited ghost hunter did. Despite the glare that Danny could feel even from behind her face plate, Valerie swooped in firing at the other ghost.

Danny took the moment to glance back. His parents were coming around the corner now, in the FAV. Combined with Valerie's suit and board, the vehicle probably had enough firepower to reduce the ghost to the point at which it could be captured, whether in his specially modified thermos, one of his parents' newer inventions, or Valerie's cuboid containment device, Danny really didn't care. Honestly, if he hadn't been hit, he would have had the fight finished in minutes, rather than what was now coming up on three-quarters of an hour.

But- there! There was the opening that he needed, a clear line of fire to the ghost's main eye. He fired, the ghost recoiled and- Hah! There was Jazz with the Mini-Bazooka and a thermos. Danny sagged in relief as the huge, tentacled, many-eyed ghost was sucked into his sister's thermos. He smiled and gave her a thumbs up, just in time for Valerie to shoot him with one of her pink-hued guns.

Danny crashed into the pavement, loosing his grip on the large ecto-gun.

"Think I forgot about you, ghost?" the other teen taunted him as she took aim once again.

Danny resisted the urge to hiss and snarl up at her, and instead shouted, "Please, with the way you hold grudges-" he tucked and rolled, dodging another blast, then sprang to his feet, "-you probably still remember every kid who pulled your hair in kindergarten!" With that, he leapt into the air, and shot past Valerie, coming so close to her that she almost unbalanced. The chase was on.

Jack was out of the car before Red Huntress was even out of sight. Normally, he and Maddie would be chasing after the ghost-boy, but, this time, there was something more important. The DNA-scanner record on the Fenton Blender Mk VII. (Neither he nor Maddie had seen Jazz, or else there would be something even more important on their minds.)

He ran to where Phantom had dropped the Blender (funny story behind that name, the Mk I actually _had_ been a blender), but Maddie, being the faster of the two of them, reached it first, and deftly flipped it over, revealing the DNA-scanner module. Jack came up beside her just as she pushed the button that would reveal the Blender's last user.

The name 'DANNY FENTON' blinked up from the tiny LED screen.

"Oh my god," breathed Maddie.

"But- but that doesn't make any sense!" said Jack. "He wasn't anywhere near here!"

"But what if- What if Phantom- What if it took some of Danny's DNA..?" Maddie turned to Jack. "Jack, do you have your cell phone with you?"

"Yes?" said Jack, a little bewildered by the sudden change of topic.

"Call him," ordered Maddie.

Jack pulled the phone out of his pocket, and, after fumbling with the little buttons, managed to call Danny. The phone rang and rang between the two of them (one of Jack's fumbles had set the phone to speakerphone mode), echoing in the relative silence of the street. The phone went to voice-mail and Jack hung up, hitting redial. He smiled nervously at Maddie.

"You know our Danno, Mads. He hardly ever answers his phone the first time."

But the phone went to voice-mail the second time. Jack hit redial again.

This time, to Jack and Maddie's great relief, Danny picked up on the third ring.

 _"Hi, Dad,"_ he said, sounding just slightly out of breath, _"sorry I didn't pick up before, I was listening to some music. What's up?"_

"Danny," said Maddie, before Jack could say anything, "have you used the the Fenton Blender Mk VI-"

"VIII," interjected Jack.

"-Mk VIII recently?"

 _"The what?"_ asked Danny, blankly.

"The new ecto-gun. The big one, that spins the blasts."

 _"Uhhhhh,"_ said Danny, _"I wouldn't say that I_ used _it?"_

"Danny," said Maddie sternly.

 _"I might have knocked it- well, it and some others- over when I was cleaning the weapons vault? And I picked them up? I didn't, like, hurt it or anything did I? They all looked fine when I put them back. I'm really sorry..."_

"No, sweetie, it's fine, it's fine. You just have to tell us when these things happen, okay?"

 _"Okay, mom, I'm sorry."_

"It's alright. Be safe now. We love you."

 _"I love you guys too, bye."_

Jack and Maddie looked at one another as the phone clicked off.

"So, Phantom can bypass our DNA-locks," said Jack.

"Hm. Well, either that, or Danny broke the scanner when he dropped the gun." She frowned. "We probably shouldn't make him clean the weapons vault, Jack. It could have been dangerous for him if one of the guns went off when he knocked them over."

"I guess you're right, Mads." he paused. "But then I'll have to do it!"

Danny breathed a sigh of relief as he closed his phone. He had been lucky to have gotten away from Valerie so quickly, and luckier still that he had been able to think of a good excuse for his DNA to be logged on the ecto-gun.

Now all he had to do was make it look like he had cleaned the weapons vault before his parents got home. He groaned. The weapons vault that Sam and Tucker were probably still dismantling, trying to get weapons that they could use against the tentacled ghost. He pulled his phone out and began to dial them even as he lifted himself back into the air. Maybe he could convince them to help...


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello!**

 **I'm so happy that so many people have read my stories! Thank you so much!**

 **This chapter has some implied torture. Nothing explicit, and pretty much on par for the Phandom, but I thought I'd give you a heads up.**

Day 4: Eclipse

As much as Danny hated the bright white light that had been shining directly down on him for... for however long he had been here... he had learned, the hard way, that when said light was obscured was when things got really bad. So, when the dark outline of a head interposed itself between Danny and the light, Danny did the only thing he could do. He cringed, pulling against the anti-ghost restraints that held his limbs in place, pushing himself back against the hard metal table, squeezing his eyes shut even more tightly.

But what happened next wasn't something that Danny had been expecting at all.

"Oh, Daniel..." the voice was soft, but familiar, the touch to his hand, gentle. But _they_ had tricked him before, so Danny kept his eyes closed, his body tense, ready for whatever new horror _they_ were going to inflict on him.

"Oh, Daniel," repeated the voice, "I am so, so, very sorry." The touch traced its way up Danny's arm, to his head. Danny would have whimpered, if _they_ hadn't made sure that he couldn't even do that. _They_ had more than muzzled him, forcing some kind of horrible thing down his throat that lacerated his vocal cords every time he even tried to make a sound. He was sure that this apology was just the precursor to some new horror.

But instead of pain, the next thing that Danny felt was the cool wash of intangibility, and the obstruction in his throat was gone, along with the muzzle. Danny gasped and coughed, taking in air that he didn't, strictly speaking, need, but which still felt so, so good. Only now did he open his eyes to take in the figure standing over him.

"Cl-Clockw-work?" his voice was awful, cracked and broken, but he thought it was something of a miracle that it worked at all. Part of him wanted to ask what had taken Clockwork so long, why he was here now, after Danny had been... But that part of him was thoroughly eclipsed by the part that feared what Clockwork's arrival might portend. "A-Ami-ty?" Danny croaked.

"Amity is fine, Daniel," said the ancient ghost as he ever-so-gently pulled one of the restraints free of the table it was bolted to, "if perhaps a little the worse for wear in your absence. Danielle has been filling in for you, somewhat."

Danny struggled to sit up as Clockwork removed the last restraint on his upper body, but couldn't quite make his limbs work as they should, and Clockwork carefully pushed him back down. "Th-then-"

"Your friends and family are quite healthy. They are worried for you, of course. A few people have suffered injuries, but there have been no deaths."

Danny relaxed a little at this, but tensed as he realized the only other thing this could be about. " _Him?"_

"No, Daniel. He is still safely imprisoned."

"But-" said Danny, even as Clockwork lifted him from the table and wrapped him in his purple cloak, "wh-why?"

"Because the Observants made me responsible for you," said Clockwork as he carried Danny away from the bright lights of the operating theater. "It simply took me some time to convince them that I therefore had responsibilities _to_ you as well." Clockwork tilted his staff in his free hand, and a blue portal swirled into existence.

"Wait!" said Danny suddenly. "Others-" he started to cough, and clutched Clockwork's cloak closer to his shaking body. In his time here, despite being silenced himself, he had heard screams. Lots and lots of screams. If there were others here... No matter what they had done, no matter how they had been captured, no one deserved this.

"They have been taken care of," said Clockwork quietly, soothingly, as Danny's coughing fit subsided. "Rest, Daniel."

Danny curled back into Clockwork's chest. He could hear Clockwork's clock ticking when he did, like a little heartbeat. He sighed. Maybe he would rest.

He was asleep before Clockwork even stepped through the portal.

Perhaps, mused Clockwork, that was a good thing, even if it was a little alarming when the small, white-haired ghost in his arms flickered and flashed back to black-haired, but equally small human. Even though Daniel's human form seemed much more fragile, it took much less energy to maintain than his ghostly one, and Daniel needed every bit of energy he could get, if he was to heal. Not to mention, it would have been disturbing to Daniel to see Clockwork's lair, Long Now, in such disarray.

It so happened that Clockwork hadn't so much convinced the Observants to let him go to Daniel, as he had simply beaten them to a bloody pulp. The fight hadn't been an easy one. The Observants outnumbered him greatly, and they had their own temporal powers. But Clockwork was the Master of Time, not merely an observer of it.

In any case, the lair was already repairing itself. By the time Daniel woke it would be as if the fight had never happened.

Clockwork laid his staff against the wall, and held the infinitely younger ghost closer to himself. It was just like the Observant to forget that, no matter how aloof he typically held himself, Clockwork was still a ghost, and that, just like any other ghost, he could be incredibly possessive. Daniel made a small noise and snuggled closer to Clockwork, his core reaching out, drinking in the energy Clockwork's was offering.

Clockwork was highly tempted to stretch the moment out into eternity... But Daniel was still injured, still in pain from the things those animals had done to him, and then there was Pandora, Master of Hope, to consider. He had relied on her to free the other prisoners, knowing that Daniel would not rest easy until it was done... And Pandora had a soft spot for the child as well. She would want to know how he was doing. Not to mention Daniel's other friends and allies... And it would be so much better to have Daniel healthy and happy, even if he did have to share him.


	5. Chapter 5

Day 5: 10 years later

Danny was fourteen when he died. Ten years later, he was still fourteen.

This wasn't terrible. It wasn't great either. Still, apart from some angst when he was just graduating from high school, he hadn't let it bother him much. He had realized early on, within a few months of his death in the portal, that he was never going to have anything even approximating a normal life.

He _had_ figured out how to change his appearance before he turned twenty. It had taken weeks, and a significant number of bribes both to Amorpho (in the form of spy movies) and a ghost named Loki (strangely, also in the form of movies). Still, doing so was stressful. So, unless he absolutely had to go somewhere as an adult, or deal with someone who knew him, but not his secret, he didn't bother.

On the other hand, the ghosts had been more or less leaving Amity alone the past couple of years. Some of them had just given up after being beaten repeatedly. Skulker was really the only one who still came after Danny regularly. A few had been taken out of the picture by other ghosts. Spectra and Bertrand, for example, were in Walker's prison (apparently promoting suicide was against the rules). Others had more or less made peace with Danny. Ember had concerts in the park once a month. Klemper was living in the Far Frozen now. The Box Ghost, Lunch Lady, and Box Lunch all lived- resided?- in Amity now.

Jazz had come back to Amity after completing her double doctorate, and she was making a killing as one of the few psychologists willing to work in Amity. Danny lived with her now. Staying with his parents had become untenable after... an incident.

Sam was in law school. She wanted to become a lobbyist for ghost rights. Danny missed her. A lot. More than he would admit to anyone but Jazz and Tucker. But he and Sam had talked and they had agreed that they wouldn't work as a couple. Not now. Maybe... Later. _After._ Maybe. Maybe not. A lifetime could be a long time. People changed, and there was no guarantee that Sam would stay, after it was over.

Tucker, on the other hand, had fallen in love with ghost-tech over the years. He had just started a kind of apprenticeship with Technus in the Ghost Zone, and wouldn't be finished for a couple of months.

Taken all together, these things meant that there was no better time for Danny to go traveling with Danielle.

He packed lightly. A couple changes of clothes, his phone and a charger, emergency food and water, a flashlight, his thermos and an ecto-gun. Then he shunted all of it sideways, into the little dimensional pocket that usually only contained the thermos. Traveling as a ghost had a lot of advantages.

Having done that, he drifted out into the living room. His sisters were there, chatting.

After receiving the ecto-dejecto and stabilizing, Danielle'd had a growth spurt, although it had stopped dead as soon as she started to look about the same age as Danny. The result was that now Danny and Danielle looked like twins, and could probably pass as one another given a haircut, or even a hat, and a change of clothes.

"Hey," said Danny, getting their attention, "I'm ready to go, if you are."

"Yep!" said Danielle, literally leaping off the couch and into the air. "Oh my gosh, this is gonna be the best!"

Jazz got up more slowly, and pulled both ghosts into a hug. "You two be safe, okay?"

"Will do, Jazz," said Danny.

"And remember to call me every day."

"Yep," said Danielle.

"And remember that Sam's expecting you to visit her in Chicago."

"Jeeze, Jazz. It isn't as if I haven't been friends with Sam for twenty years. I'm not going to forget."

"Okay, okay. I just worry."

"I know. _You_ be safe, too. Call if anything shows up that you and Val can't handle."

"I will. Have a good time."

"We will!" chorused the two ghosts as they flew out through the ceiling.

"Hey, Danny?" said Danielle once they got out of easy sight of the ground.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna race?"

Danny grinned. "Last one to get to the lake is a rotten egg?"

"You bet!"


	6. Chapter 6

Day 6: Worldbuilding

Danny was doing homework in Clockwork's lair. He liked it there, in the clocktower, with the ticking and the bells. He liked that the ecto-energy there was thick and sweet. He liked that Clockwork was always there, if not always in the same room. It felt safe. Safer than his own home often felt between his parents' desire to vivisect Phantom and the fact that there were literally weapons in the walls.

Well. He _had_ been doing homework. Now he was looking curiously at a large book Clockwork had left open on a nearby desk. He wasn't trying to be nosy. Really, he wasn't. But Clockwork had seemed frustrated, and Danny wanted to see if he could help.

The book was open to what looked like a map of some kind. He didn't recognize anything on it. Not even the language it was written in. Still it all looked tantalizingly familiar. He leaned closer, floating up and folding his legs, fingers hovering over the page but not quite touching it.

"Is that the Far Frozen?"

"Yes," said a deep voice behind him, "it is."

Danny jumped about a foot. "Clockwork!" he exclaimed. "Um, I'm sorry, I-"

Bet Clockwork was shaking his head. "You have done nothing wrong. You are finished with your homework, of course."

"Yes," said Danny. He looked back at the book. "That's the Far Frozen, but there isn't anything like this near it," he said, indicating another shape on the map.

"No, but there used to be." Clockwork floated over to look down at the book. "I think that you have noticed yourself, that the Zone can be a cartographers nightmare."

"Yeah," said Danny, remembering his own failed maps. The islands and doors were just always moving, and, try as he might, Danny kept misidentifying their paths and orbits. Then he grinned up at the older ghost. "But that doesn't mean that I'm going to stop trying."

"Of course not. But you had a question."

"Mm," said Danny, still looking at the map. "Why were you upset before?"

"That requires a bit of explanation," said Clockwork. "Do you know of the five great rivers?"

"Kind of," said Danny. "I've only ever seen the Acheron, though. Other than that there's the Styx, the Cocytus, the Lethe, and the Phlegethon. And they all have different special properties. And they might be intelligent. But, you know. Ghost Zone. Just about everything is intelligent."

"Very true. The river that I am concerned about currently is the Lethe, the river of forgetfulness. The administrator of the river is called the Keeper of Memory, because they keep safe all of the memories taken by the Lethe. There have been many Keepers over the years. When I was young, the Keeper was Meng Po. Now it is Memento. Some memories have been lost."

"Any of yours?" asked Danny, half joking.

"Unfortunately."

"Oh," said Danny. That was less than good. Clockwork was an Ancient, the Master of Time. Who knew what could be in memories that he gave up?

"I am trying to track where and when the memories might have been lost, but it is going very slowly."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Clockwork smiled down at Danny and ruffled his hair. "I'm afraid not. Don't worry. This is more of an inconvenience than a disaster."


	7. Chapter 7

**Wow! 142 visitors! Thank you for reading, you guys!**

Day 7: Core/Limitless

"Could they really have done it?" asked Danny. It was the first thing out of his mouth the second he saw Clockwork. Normally, he was a little more polite than that, but he was upset, and he needed to know.

Clockwork arched an eyebrow. "Could who really have done what?"

"The Guys in White. Could they really have destroyed the Ghost Zone? I mean, that's impossible, right? The Ghost Zone is huge. Its called the Infinite Realms, for goodness' sake. That missile couldn't have really hurt it. Right?"

"I'm afraid it could have, Daniel."

Danny could feel all the blood drain from his face, and he flopped down on a suspiciously convenient sofa. "Oh my gosh. _How?_ "

In answer, Clockwork waved his hand, and one of his time screens appeared in mid-air. In the center of the screen floated something that looked like a bright green star. Danny could see the tiny rectangles of doors and jagged shapes islands orbiting it, though, so he knew it was something in the Zone.

"Much like the ghosts that inhabit them," said Clockwork, "the Infinite Realms have a core. This is it."

Danny's hand traced upwards, to where his own core was located, just below his heart, behind his sternum. A ghost's core was vital to their existence. It was in some ways analogous both to a human brain and a human heart. The philosophical implications of the Ghost Zone having one were a bit more than Danny wanted to contemplate at the moment. "But wouldn't that imply that the Ghost Zone has a center?" he asked, sitting up, even floating a little bit.

"Why, yes," said Clockwork, sounding pleased. "It does indeed imply that."

Danny frowned, leaning forward. "Then it can't actually be infinite. If it was infinite it wouldn't have a center."

"That is also true, in a physical sense," agreed Clockwork. "But we are speaking of the Infinite Realms. The Ghost Zone. The Spirit World. The physical aspects of things are still important, but less so." The old ghost then tilted his head towards Danny, as if expecting him to come to a conclusion.

"Okay, so... The core is at the spiritual center of the Zone?"

"Very good, Daniel."

"But it could still be anywhere, right? The missile wouldn't have reached it."

Clockwork's smile vanished. "It very well could have, Daniel. Don't you think it strange that both I and the former King of All Ghosts made our homes here, in space that corresponds to the Earth's location in the material universe?"

"I- I guess I never really thought about it," admitted Danny. "So the core is somewhere near the space that corresponds to Earth?" he asked, carefully using Clockwork's terminology.

Clockwork shook his head. "It is _in_ the space that corresponds to Earth's. Even on worlds which have produced life, sentience is rare. Sapience is rarer still. Earth is far from unique, but it is an oddity. What is more, Earth produces more ghosts, and stronger ghosts, than any other, similar planet. The GIW could very well have destroyed the Ghost Zone, Daniel, and with it, all of reality."

"Then- then why didn't you do something? I mean, I almost didn't stop it, and I'd been acting crazy all week. I almost didn't even find out what they were doing. If I had screwed up one more time then-"

"Daniel. Please. I did not step in because I did not need to." The smile came back. "Regardless of what _could_ have happened, you did stop it."

Danny took a deep breath, then let it out in a sigh. "I guess you're right," he said, looking back up at the time screen, and the green star that was the core of the Ghost Zone. "It's pretty."

"That it is," said Clockwork. "Now, I believe that I had promised you a history lesson the last time you were here?"

Danny grimaced, but it was more on principle than anything else. He liked Clockwork's lessons. "I guess."

Clockwork waved his hand, and the view on the time screen changed. "Then let us begin with Imperial China..."


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm not sure how I feel about this one, to be honest. It kind of went off on a tangent in the middle...**

Day 8: Clones

Danny kept four jars hidden in the wall behind his closet.

They weren't ordinary jars, of course. Very little in Danny's life or afterlife could be considered ordinary. His parents had made the first one. It had been intended as a prototype containment device. Something to put a disintegrating ghost into, to keep it together long enough to study. Danny had made copies. After the time travel incident, he had always been a little worried that, maybe, one day, he would overestimate an opponent and seriously injure them. He thought the jars would be a good insurance policy, and he kept his copies in the same dimensional pocket he kept his thermos in.

Even so, he had never really expected to use any of them. Let alone four in one week. Once he had used them, he didn't know how to fix the dissolving (and in some cases completely dissolved except for their core) ghosts trapped within them. He didn't exactly have time to find out how, either, between all the ghosts attacking Amity Park, all the ghosts who just wanted to live- reside?- haunt?- in Amity Park, the hunters attacking the second group of ghosts, and Vlad being more and more aggravating.

Then Danielle showed up again and _she_ was destabilizing, giving Danny a very real and literal deadline. He could put her in a jar, too, he had extras, but Dani was obsessed with freedom. Dani didn't think that she'd survive the experience sane unless she was well and truly unconscious. Then with all the fights... Valerie... Vlad... The jars had been misplaced or broken by the time Dani had started melting in earnest, and the only thing that Danny could do was use the ecto-dejecto and pray.

Danny sighed, and decided that he had been staring at his closet wall for long enough. His friends would think that he was... Scratch that. They probably knew exactly what he was doing, especially if Jazz was doing her psycho-analyst thing.

He sunk his hand intangibly through the back of the wall, and gathered the four jars. He wrapped them in bubble wrap and old, but clean. socks, put them in his backpack, and carefully inserted the backpack into his dimensional pocket. The fit was snug, but considering what Danny's luck was like, he didn't want to take any chances. It was possible to knock things out of a dimensional pocket by smacking its owner around. Not terribly likely, unless they were low on power and beaten to a pulp, but possible.

Downstairs, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were waiting for him on the couch. Sam was cleaning an ecto-weapon, holding the stock between her knees as she unscrewed something. Tucker was playing a game on his laptop. Jazz was reading. What, exactly, she was reading, Danny didn't know, but it looked intimidating.

Danny stopped a few feet away from them and made a face. He hadn't meant to sneak up on them. He cleared his throat gently. They still jumped.

Jazz was the first to recover this time. "Do you have everything you need?" she asked, closing the book.

"Yep," said Danny shrugging. Fidgeting. "Are you sure you three are going to be okay by yourselves? I mean, we don't have to do this now. We can wait until Mom and Dad come back."

Sam laughed, sharp and harsh and short. "What, and risk them noticing that you're missing?" She resumed her work on the ecto-gun. "You don't know how long this is going to take, even if Frostbite and Clockwork have given you estimates." She looked back up, giving Danny a brief grin. "Besides, Ghost-Boy, Tuck and I have been doing this as long as you have."

"Not to mention," said Tucker, tapping an ear that held a small, white bud, "the new and improved Fenton Phones. We could get in touch with you even in the Far Frozen. Only if there's an emergency, of course," he added as an afterthought.

"Only if nothing wrecks our relays," said Danny, still worried. "And-"

"Danny," interrupted Jazz. "Stop. Worrying isn't going to help. Remember, one thing at a time." She gave him a quick hug. "Not to mention, you decided to do this weeks ago, and Dani's already there, so unless you want to leave her hanging, you'd better get a move on."

Tucker stood up too, putting his laptop to the side. "Yeah, man. Your cousin can be fierce." Another hug. "Good luck, okay?"

"Okay," muttered Danny, staring at his feet.

"Hey," said Sam. Danny looked up. "I can't get up because I've got this junk all over my lap," she explained, gesturing to the half-disassembled ecto-gun, "come over here." Danny complied and they gave each other awkward half-hugs with lots of arm-patting. Once they had pulled away, Sam said, "Don't screw up what you're doing because you're worried about us. Like Jazz says, one thing at a time."

"Okay. You three be safe, too. Don't take unnecessary risks."

"We won't," chorused the three full humans.

"Come on," said Jazz. "Tucker and I can walk you down to the portal."

Danny took a deep breath. "Nah, it's fine, you guy's keep on doing what you were doing." He smirked a little. "I may be massively clueless, but I _can_ find the portal myself." With that, Danny promptly dropped through the floor.

Danny and Dani's plan to repair the ghosts in the jars was not simply to dump ecto-dejecto on them. That that had worked for Danielle was nothing short of miraculous. To begin with, they weren't using ecto-dejecto, but an entirely new mixture that included Danny and Dani's blood (a good deal from both their forms, and a bit from their mid-morph state), purified ectoplasm, artificial plasmic compounds _similar to_ what was in the ecto-dejecto, but superior in healing abilities due to actually being designed with that in mind, extracts from several rare ghost-zone plants, and specialized medications from the Far Frozen, among other things. Secondly, they had this whole... Danny hesitated to call it a ritual. Magic and science tended to blur together when ghosts were involved. Call it a procedure by which they could provide the injured ghosts a structure to reform into. Thirdly, they were doing it in their lair.

Speaking of their lair, there it was. Danny came to a halt, hovering in front of the black and silver door. He and Dani had chosen the location carefully. It was within sight of Clockwork's lair, assuming that you were allowed to see it, reasonably near the Fenton Portal, and far enough away from enemy lairs that said enemies wouldn't be messing with it all the time.

The door swung open with the slightest touch, the heavy, antique, silver handle turning by itself, revealing a long corridor of blue-gray stone. Danny drifted in and laded lightly. Ghosts could, to a certain degree, control the laws of physics inside their lairs. Flight was not typically allowed in Danny and Dani's lair.

Danny walked down the corridor, past a coat-rack that grew from the wall, past evenly spaced windows that opened into a night sky (the Moon was in a different phase in each), past delicate, abstract carvings. The hall twisted slightly as he walked, until, from the perspective from which he started, he was upside-down, walking on the ceiling. Then he passed a curtain of beads, and entered the atrium.

The lair looked like nothing so much as an Escher print, full of impossible stairs, Mobius strips, fountains of water, waterfalls falling up, down, sideways, doorways (but no actual doors) set into walls at every angle, skylights, windows, and balconies letting in starlight and Moonlight. The tendency to resemble an Escher print would have been even more pronounced if there had been people on the stairs. Gravity was entirely relative, here.

(Danny and Dani loved those prints. Especially the one with all the stairs.)

Danny shut his eyes, trying to locate Dani and the others. He smiled when he did so, and bounced up a nearby staircase, taking the steps two at a time. He still wasn't very good at finding people in his lair. It was like any new power, he supposed, it required practice. He got off the stairs at the first landing, walked straight at a curved wall, and wound up at a ninety-degree angle to where he had been before. He walked another couple of meters, and then brushed aside another curtain (this one cloth, patterned with stars) to walk through a door, and smiled broadly at the ghosts assembled there.

Then, before he could say anything in greeting, he was tackled by Dani.

Dani was the same height as him, now. She'd had a growth spurt after being stabilized. Otherwise, she was mostly the same. White hair with silver highlights, bright green eyes, quicksilver smile. Just like Danny. Except, you know. She was a girl.

"Hey, twin," he said, hugging her back. "Good to see you." He looked over her shoulder. "Hi Clockwork, Pandora-" a second ghost joined in the hug. "Hey Wulf." Then, still trying to greet the other ghosts present, "Dora. Frostbite. Thank you all so much for coming."

"It is as it should be," said Clockwork, more than a little smugly. Then again, he was always a little smug.

There were a few minutes- okay, more than a few minutes, they had a lot to catch up on, and Dani hadn't quite finished introductions when Danny came in- of conversation. Also, with conversation came snacks and drinks (naturally). This, even more than the flight over, helped Danny relax. He was here, in his lair, with his twin and all of his closest ghostly friends and allies (he was safe). Clockwork was here, and he hadn't so much as hinted at anything going horribly wrong... Which didn't mean that nothing would go wrong, only that if it _did_ go wrong, it was supposed to, and that the time-line would be the better for it. Danny put a lot of trust in Clockwork.

But eventually they did get around to starting what they had come for.

He and Dani had set up a room for the express purpose of healing the ghosts in the jars. It was a round room with skylights set into the ceiling, and silver lines inlaid into the floor. The ghosts filed in and took up positions around the perimeter of the room demarcated by the silver lines. Danny removed the jars from his pocket, and placed them in the center of the floor. Danny glanced at Frostbite.

"Are you sure that doing them all together is the right thing?" This was the fifth or sixth time he had asked that question.

"Positive, Great One," said the yeti. "They will tend to stabilize one another as they reform, much like how you stabilized the Little Great One when she destabilized."

"Hey!" protested Dani from her assigned spot. "I'm totally the same size as he is now!" Next to her, Dora hid a smile behind her hand.

"Aww, you'll always be my little sister, Dani," joked Danny. He licked his lips. "I'm opening them now." He opened the jars one by one, applying one fourth of their stabilization mixture to each of the still-dissolving ghosts in each one. (Ancients, he could see their cores. If this didn't work the first time, they'd be gone.) Then he went to his own designated spot.

His and Dani's job, as the people who were, at least theoretically, the closest relatives to the four dissolved ghosts, was to make sure that the energy that was being fed to the ghosts had a compatible ecto-signature. Basically, they were filters. Clockwork, Dora, Wulf, Pandora, and Frostbite would feed Danny and Dani energy, Danny and Dani would process the energy and feed it to the dissolved ghosts. This was a little risky, since Danny and Dani were still child ghosts themselves, but their human halves tended to make them more stable. The lair would be providing the raw ectoplasm the ghosts would need to reform.

Within moments of starting, Danny was in a state between euphoria and ecstasy. It wasn't because of the energy flowing through his body, at least, not exactly. It had a lot more to do with what he was _doing._

Danny's obsessions were centered around the well being of others. Here he was, with all his closest ghostly friends and family _safe_ and he could feel themand he was helping people without being in danger himself because if anything went wrong he would be helped and if everything went well he would have more friends and he was helping without hurting anyone and the only thing that could make this better would be if his human family and friends were there...

When Danny woke up he felt warm, which was a bit odd. The temperature in the lair usually hovered around forty or fifty degrees. That was the most comfortable temperature for the two human-ghost hybrids. He hummed and nuzzled into a pillow. Ancients, he was tired. Tired, but not sleepy anymore. He pushed himself up.

And instantly realized why he had been so warm. He blinked at the four unfamiliar figures that had been sleeping in the bed alongside him.

"We thought that it would be best this way."

Danny looked up to see Clockwork floating nearby.

"Where..?"

"Danielle and Wulf are in the kitchen. Princess Dorothea, Frostbite, and Pandora had to return to their realms."

Danny nodded and looked back down. The four others were fast asleep. "They weren't supposed to be human," he murmured. Now that he was awake, he could feel their cores, so similar to his own. He had thought, and Frostbite had agreed, that they would probably remain full ghosts.

"Perhaps not," agreed Clockwork.

One of the sleepers looked exactly like Danny. Another was smaller, probably a couple inches shorter, with hair a deeper auburn than even Danny's mother, but otherwise looked like Danny. The third was as tall as Danny's dad and almost as broad, dark haired, and square. The fourth looked a little taller than Danny, but was also painfully thin, almost skeletal, with high cheekbones and a sharp face.

"I didn't even know we had a bed this big," said Danny quietly, settling back down once he saw that there wasn't any way he could extract himself without disturbing the others. He _had_ known about the pajamas the clones were now wearing. He'd been a bit worried that they'd reform naked or something.

Clockwork chuckled. "Danielle said the same thing when she woke."

Danny frowned. "So how did it-"

But even the quiet conversation was apparently enough to to wake the first of the sleepers, who stirred, saw Danny, and promptly shot up, overbalancing off the side of the bed. Danny had just the presence of mind- barely- not to try to catch him by lunging over the other sleeping ghosts. Instead he, again, just barely, was able to get the lair to catch him.

Unfortunately this seemed to have the effect of startling the other boy even more, and soon he was on his feet, green fire crackling around clenched fists.

"Who are you?" he demanded sharply, his voice exactly like Danny's. "Where's Father?"

"Uh," said Danny blankly. It would be wrong to say that he hadn't expected anything like this, he had just managed to forget any and all plans he had for dealing with it. "Do you mean Vlad? I think he's in New York this week."

"New York?!" the clone almost wailed. "Then why am I awake? I'm not supposed to be awake, I'm not stable yet, I-" at this point the young ghost noticed the ectoplasmic fire burning in his hands and swallowed whatever he was going to say. He glared accusingly at Danny. "What did you do to me?"

Danny raised his hands in placating gesture. "We just stabilized you. And your brothers. That's all. If you want to go back to Vlad," and here Danny swallowed because the words were almost physically painful to him, "we can help you do that. Do you have a name?" The last wasn't a given. Vlad had proven himself to be actually worse at naming things than Danny's parents.

"Daniel."

Danny winced. That was going to get confusing fast. But Daniel was continuing.

"What do you mean 'brothers?'"

"Um. These guys," he gestured at the others, who were now stirring. He hoped that they wouldn't be as jumpy as the first guy. "I know that they look different now, but so do you."

Daniel frowned, but then looked down, first at his body, and then at his hands in particular, then, seeming to realize something, he grabbed at his hair, the fire around his fingers winking out. The teen stared at the black hairs between his fingers for several seconds before finally saying, "You really did stabilize me, didn't you?"

"Yep. Well, I mean, I had a lot of help, but-"

"But you're the one that fights Father all the time!"

Danny stared at him blankly. What did that have to do with anything? "Yeah? So?"

"So why help me?"

"Why wouldn't I help you?" asked Danny.

"Because you hate Father!"

"No I don't," protested Danny, a little offended now. "I don't like him very much, but I don't go out of my way to screw with him. Usually. I only go after him because he goes after my people."

"Daniel."

"What?" said both boys, their attention drawn to Clockwork.

"Perhaps you both ought to go join Danielle and Wulf. I'm sure you are hungry, and these three still need more sleep."

"Oh, okay," said Danny, who started picking his way over the others on the bed. They must be really tired to sleep through that almost-fight. "This is Clockwork, by the way," he said once he was standing firmly on the floor. He turned to the older ghost. "Do you want me to bring anything back for you to eat?"

"No, Daniel, I will be quite fine."

"Okay. So..." he turned back to Daniel. "Let's get some breakfast."

"Breakfast?" said the other ghost, suddenly much, much less sure of himself.

"Right," agreed Danny, walking towards the curtained door, hoping that Daniel would follow him.

Daniel did, thankfully. "What's breakfast?"

"... I thought Vlad had given you guys my memories."

"Not _all_ of them."

"Well, you're in for a treat."


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello again! This chapter is kind of a continuation of the story in Day 1: Electricity. You shouldn't have to read it for it to make sense, though.**

Day 9: Power Surge

By Sunday, Tucker had repeatedly reassured Danny that, no, this, Tucker's injury, wasn't Danny's fault. That if it was anyone's fault, it was Tucker's, for not paying better attention to the fight going on around him, for not seeking cover before trying to counter-hack Technus. It didn't really help, though, and Tucker had known that it wouldn't. The three of them, Danny, Sam, and Tucker, didn't talk about it much, but they all knew that Danny, like any full ghost, had obsessions.

Still, there wasn't as if there was anything else Tucker could do. He hadn't been hurt nearly as badly as Danny seemed to think, but he _had_ been electrocuted. So. Hospital.

God, he hated hospitals.

Tucker was let out on Tuesday, but he was now noticing a new problem. For some reason, _everything,_ and he meant _everything,_ had decided to shock him. When he took off his clothes, they clung to him with static. When he touched anything with metal in it, he would be jolted. Not to mention what happened whenever he got close to an outlet or one of his beloved electronics. Or the headache that hadn't let up since Wednesday.

So by the time he got back to school on Friday, he was short-tempered and snappish.

He was hoping that seeing his friends would put him in a better mood. For about ten seconds, it did. But then Danny had given him a 'welcome back to school' fist bump-

-and Tucker was shocked again.

Danny was horrified, and apologized profusely, but Tucker managed to laugh it off.

But, as it turned out, that was only the first time. Every time he and Danny got close to one another, or anything like close, they'd both be shocked. Every time it happened, Danny would become more and more apologetic, and Tucker would get more and more frustrated.

Tucker supposed that it was all very well and good for Danny. Danny could generate his own electricity. He could survive being hit by lightning. Static electricity probably didn't hurt him at all.

Danny hadn't exactly been having a good week either. The weekend had been, well, not fine, not with Tucker in the hospital, but also not any weirder than any other weekend. He had been getting a little more static than was usual, but he put it down to chance. At least until Monday.

On Monday he had woken up to a cold sweat and a shower of glass from a broken light bulb. He'd been having a nightmare. He wasn't quite sure what it had been about, which was, in Danny's book, a good thing.

The rest of the day reminded him of when he was first getting his, thankfully minor, electrical powers. Except for two things. One, he now had several methods of coping with stress, anxiety, and panic attacks, and, two, said powers had previously only extended to things he was directly touching or very close to. Now, lights would flicker, flare, or dim when he was feeling stressed. Or anxious. Or anything strongly, really. He had put out all the lights in Mr. Lancer's classroom after he saw that he had, miracle of miracles, gotten a good grade on the last quiz.

By the end of the school day Danny was getting very tired of both the problem with the lights, and of getting zapped. Admittedly, static electric shocks didn't hurt him very much, if at all, anymore, but... He didn't like it. Even that small sensation of electricity crawling along his skin brought back memories of more severe shocks.

He didn't dare go to the hospital to visit Tucker. If his powers were messing with the lights at school, he hated to imagine what they might do to medical equipment. Sam went alone. Danny spent most of the rest of the day at the park, as far away from electricity and and electronics as he could get.

Then he went home and almost knocked out the power for the house when his dad grazed him with a shot from one of his newest ecto-guns. Danny had politely excused himself from dinner, saying that he had already eaten (which was a lie).

(He just had to get away.)

Two hours later, Jazz was knocking at the bathroom door. Ten minutes after that she was unlocking it (and since when did Jazz have the key to the bathroom?) and gently picking broken glass out of Danny's hair.

Danny wasn't sure when he had blown out the lights, or even when he had crawled into the bathtub to shiver and silently cry, but he was fairly certain that the electric toothbrushes hadn't started smoking until just five minutes ago.

Jazz told him that their parents had left the house. They had blamed the flickering lights on a ghost, and had gone out to try and catch it. The sheer, horrible irony of that is what Danny held to as he pulls away from his panic. As he disentangled his fingers from his hair. As he talked to Jazz, let her sooth him, put disinfectant on his scrapes. They cleaned the bathroom together, and Danny phased the broken light bulbs out of their sockets. They had to throw out the toothbrushes, though.

Tuesday was just as bad. After a night half-spent chasing animal ghosts, he wakes to another nightmare. This one, he remembers. It was the portal accident again, but this time with Tucker and Sam and Jazz screaming alongside him. This time he dis knock out the power to the house. Heck, he knocked out power to the whole street. He wasn't getting zapped as much, but the zaps were getting stronger and stronger. Or, at least, he was getting more and more sensitive to them. With that sensitivity, came pain. With the pain, the panic attacks returned.

(Not to mention, Skulker and Desiree both had the temerity to show up and throw Danny around. At least Amity Park now had a strong taboo against the 'w-word.')

But this wasn't the first time Danny's powers had gotten weird. Sam and Jazz knew what to do in these situations. Tucker did, too, and usually they would fill him in, but he was just recovering from being electrocuted, and, well, it didn't seem appropriate to trouble him with Danny's developing electrical powers. They'd tell him when he got back.

By the end of Thursday, Danny had gotten the power more or less contained. Not _controlled._ Control implied that he could actually do something useful with it. But contained. He wasn't even making the lights flicker anymore, and things had stopped zapping him.

But then Tucker got back and things started to get weird again.

Not that they had ever been normal.

Danny and Sam had tried to explain to Tucker what had been going on with Danny the past week, but it wasn't as if they could be explicit in front of other people, and Danny and Tucker were both too upset to try for subtle. They couldn't even try to do it in Esperanto, Latin, or Greek, because half the nerds in the school knew Esperanto, the general consensus was that Mr. Lancer knew Latin, and Danny was the only one fluent enough in Greek to do more than be polite to the people in Pandora's kingdom.

They tried once more during lunch, but a rainy day, a crowded cafeteria, three nosy teachers, and five more static shock incidents thwarted them. (Only Sam noticed the angry red spots that bloomed on Danny's skin after each shock.)

After the fifth one, they simply agreed to talk after school. In the park. Far away from anything electronic.

Still, thus far, to Danny, the strangest thing about the day was that Tucker didn't have his PDA with him.

Things came to a head at the end of seventh period science. Tucker and Danny had been carefully avoiding coming within more than a foot of one another since lunch, but they had a group project in this class, a poster that Danny and Sam had already done all the research for. All that they needed to do was cut out the information and glue it on. Unfortunately, the A-listers were also in this class, and they had taken not only the best scissors for themselves, but also most of the classroom glue-sticks. Between Danny, Sam, and Tucker, their group had exactly one glue-stick.

So, while they were both distracted, trying to decide exactly where to put their respective cut-outs, Danny and Tucker reached for the glue-stick.

Tucker leaped back right away, knocking over his chair and attracting the attention of the entire room in the process. Sam tried to tug him back down, all the while shooting glares at everyone but Danny.

Danny himself had stood up in response to Tucker's jump, and he was staring at Tucker with wide, wide eyes, cradling his own hand.

Everyone noticed the lights flickering, but they all ignored it in favor of watching the drama. The electricity had been acting weird all week.

"God, Danny," said Tucker. "Are you doing this on purpose or something?"

Danny blinked twice (only Sam noticed that the lights dimmed in time with his blinks), opened his mouth, closed it, burst into tears and ran from the room, Sam behind him in a second. The lights flared once more, sparked, cracked, and went out.

"Well, heck," said Tucker.


	10. Chapter 10

**Crossover is with Harry Potter. Because clearly there aren't enough of those. My concept here is that Amity Park was attacked by some wizarding group, MACUSA went to investigate, found all these undiscovered, untrained young witches and wizards and freaked out.**

 **And, wow! I can't believe that over 200 people have looked at this! Thank you so much, and feel free to leave reviews!**

Day 10: Crossover

Danny didn't want to be anywhere near London.

It would have been bad enough if he had been in London for an ordinary reason. If he was there because his parents wanted to see if the Tower of London was really haunted, for an honest-to-goodness vacation, or something like that. Amity Park was Danny's haunt and being away from it for an extended period of time made him anxious in the extreme, even when he knew that it was safe.

What he really wanted to be doing right now was sitting down to eat dinner in FentonWorks with his family, or at least with his parents and his sister, Jazz. Unfortunately, this was impossible. To begin with, FentonWorks had been burnt down. Secondly-

He shook his head, hard. Thinking about it wouldn't do anything but depress him. At least he knew where Jazz was.

"Hey, Danny."

Danny forced himself back to the present. "What's up, Ellie?"

Ellie, also known as Dani or Danielle, was Danny's clone. They were almost identical, from their raven black hair and their pale blue eyes, to their height, to their half-dead status. The only real differences were that Ellie kept her hair long, and that she was a girl, whereas Danny was a boy. They had originally called each other cousins. Now, after the disaster last spring, they called each other twins.

"Is that it? Down there?" She was pointing down and across the street.

Danny squinted. Even for his enhanced vision, the sign was far away and difficult to read. "Looks like it," he said with some resignation.

"Great. I was beginning to think that we were lost. C'mon," she said, dragging Danny across the road with her.

Danny shook her off with an annoyed huff once they were across the street, opting instead to walk alongside her. As they approached the bar, Danny began to shiver, despite the fact that it was August.

"Yeah," said Danny darkly, "that's definitely it. Why did they put so much magic on a bar?"

"I dunno," muttered Ellie. She was shivering, too.

Magic, as it turned out, didn't quite set off their ghost sense. It didn't excite their cores in the same way that the presence of another ghost did. It did, however, give them chills. Danny got them worse than Ellie for some reason. Jazz thought that it might be because Danny had seen firsthand what a threat magic could be.

The last few times that Danny had gotten close to magic he had felt something else stirring inside him as well. Not his ghost core. Something different. Older. Not specifically tied to his ghost half. Ellie had felt it too, but she was of the opinion that it was just how humans reacted to magic, and that they were just more aware of it due to their personal experiences with the supernatural. Danny wasn't entirely sure.

By the time they stepped into the building, they had both slipped on their coats. Danny kept looking around, picking out shadows and escape routes. He wanted to find a place to hide and go ghost so that he could fight properly. Or at least stop shivering.

Inside the building, it was dark, but that didn't bother the two half-ghosts. The slightly sticky floor, the moving paintings, the aromatic smoke, and the almost palpable atmosphere of magic bothered them much more. There were a few magical persons, Danny supposed that he should call them witches and wizards, congregated in the corners.

A square of almost-white parchment- and Danny was reasonably certain that it was parchment- was hung on one wall, with large words neatly printed on it with green ink: "American exchange students and families, please meet in the private parlour."

Danny pointed the sign out to Ellie. "It says 'families,'" he said, after she had finished reading. "Do you think that there are others coming?"

"Maybe. Think that they're going to be from Amity?"

"Who knows?" said Danny grumpily. Part of him hoped so, another part hoped the opposite. He missed everyone horribly, but he didn't want any of his people to be in danger, and wizarding Britain was definitely dangerous. His next words were spoken at low volume. "When I left, those jerks were running around threatening everyone with memory wiping and jail time. They hadn't decided who was going where, except for me. And then there were, you know," his voice dropped even lower, "the funerals. Everyone was really busy."

"Yeah... I can see that," said Ellie. "So where's the private parlor?"

"Par _lour_."

"Don't talk to me in a British accent, twin."

"The barman probably knows," said Danny, indicating the bar with a nod.

The barman, an older man named Tom, did know. The room was actually located behind the bar.

As soon as they stepped through the door, all conversations in the room stopped. "Danny?!" exclaimed a pair of very, very familiar voices.

"Sam?" said Danny, surprised.

"Tucker?" said Ellie.

"What are you doing here?" asked... Well, everyone. Except for the witch sitting in the corner. And there were quite a few people in the room.

There was Sam, dressed in even more black than usual, and no colors at all. Not even purple or green. She wasn't wearing any make-up either, and she hadn't dyed her hair since the last time Danny had seen her. Her red-blonde roots were three months grown out. Her father, Jeremy, stood next to her, somehow giving off the impression that he was trying to stand between her and everything else. A nasty, half-healed scar disfigured the left side of his face.

(A vision flashed in front of Danny's eyes- Pamela. Manson, her eyes wide open and glassy, her hair still perfectly coiffed, not a mark on her body. The blood wasn't hers- it was her husband's.)

Next to them were the Foleys. Tucker was in front, his shoulder brushing Sam's. His arm was still in a sling. It was weird to see him without any technology on him. Angela and Maurice looked untouched. Looked. Danny knew why Maurice wasn't standing. Knew what the cane propped by his chair was for.

On the other side of the room, stood Valerie Gray, Star Thunder, Mikey Snow, and their respective parents. The kids looked fine, if exhausted. The adults looked like they hadn't slept in weeks. Damon Gray looked particularly awful, though. Danny had hoped that those cuts would have healed by now. As for Mikey and Star, they each only had one parent with them. Lance Thunder and Tiffany Snow, as Amity Park's local reporters, had been on-scene when it had happened. Danny had attended their funerals.

So that was thirteen people all asking the same question.

"Sorry, silly question," said Sam. She rubbed one eye. "I forgot that they were sending you here, Danny. How'd they find out about Ellie?"

"I told them about her," said Danny, giving her and Tucker the 'I'll tell you later' look. "I figured, we're biologically twins, so..." He shrugged. He had to use that explanation. It was the one they'd given the wizards. He turned to the witch, who was now standing. "You must be Professor McGonagall?" he asked, cutting off whatever question Valerie was going to ask.

Ancients, dealing with Valerie was going to be a pain. Why couldn't she have gone to one of the American schools? Although, maybe she didn't recognize Danielle? It had been a while since they had met, and Ellie was almost a foot and a half taller than she had been back then.

"That is correct," said the woman, standing. "And you are Mr. and Miss Fenton?"

"That's us!" said Danielle cheerfully.

"Your elder sister isn't joining us today?"

"She had to work," said Danny, shrugging.

"I see," said the professor. "We are just waiting on Miss Sanchez and her parents, in that case."

"Wait," said Sam. "You mean Paulina? Paulina's coming? I thought that she was going to go to Illvermorny."

"She was," said Star, hesitantly, "but her parents decided that it would be better to move. Less chance of getting attacked again, you know?"

Sam crossed her arms and looked away, muttering something about how they'd better not be in the same dorm, but her heart clearly wasn't in it. She kept glancing at her father, who now appeared to be deep in thought.

Danny resisted the urge to rub his eyes and sigh. Things never got easier, did they?

Diagon Alley was surprisingly ordinary. Danny was used to Ghost Zone cities. Arcadia, Olympus, Ys, Dis, Iram, Avalon, Lyonesse, Yamatai, Kitezh... In any one of them you could see similar sights. The only really shocking thing here was that the people here were still living. It was more like walking into a foreign country, than a different world. A really cold foreign country, but still.

The first place Professor McGonagall lead them to was a tall, marble-faced building that the professor identified as a bank. Gringotts Bank, to precise. Apparently wizards used a different system of currency than normal people, and, in order to actually buy their school supplies, they had to exchange their 'muggle money' (Professor McGonagall's term) for wizarding currency.

Luckily, there were enough tellers available that each family was left alone to do their own banking. He and Ellie would have had to come back later, if Professor McGonagall had been watching over their shoulders.

"Kinda weird to see living goblins," said Ellie quietly as the approached the nearest open teller.

"Mhm," he agreed. "Hello, I'm Danny and this is my sister Ellie."

"Yes?" said the goblin, not even looking up from his book of numbers. "What is your business at Gringotts today?"

Danny smiled, and slid the key across the counter to the goblin. The goblin's eyes widened. "Emissaries," he whispered, half-afraid.

"Don't worry," said Ellie. "We just need to change some money today."

"Yeah," said Danny. "But we thought that your leaders should know."

"Rest assured, emissaries, they will be told," said the goblin faintly.

"Hey, like I said, I'm Danny, and this is Ellie. What's your name?"

"Runok."

"Okay. Nice to meet you. Um." Danny searched his pocket for the coin Clockwork had given them. "This is what we need to change."

Runok looked at the coin and blanched. Then he very carefully picked it up and hurried away.

"Dang," said Danny, "did Clockwork ever tell you what that was made of?"

"Nope," said Ellie.

"Okay then."

Ollivander's was Danny and Ellie's second to last stop.

It was, in Danny's opinion, the worst yet. The shop felt frigid with magic, the air thick and dusty and old. Almost, but not quite like a bookshop. Not that Danny disliked bookshops, but this was just _different_ enough to be unsettling.

Paulina insisted on on going first. Of course. Paulina could be pushy like that. Danny didn't blame her, in this case. They had just come from getting fitted for uniforms, and they were certainly weird. Not something that someone as fashion-conscious as Paulina would enjoy wearing. She was quickly matched to a chestnut and dragon heartstring wand right away.

That was what it felt like. A match.

Then Valerie went. It took her a bit longer, but she was paired with a red oak and phoenix feather wand. Danny and Ellie both almost choked when Olivander said the word 'red.' Danny wondered with some trepidation if the wand types somehow correlated with personality.

Star's turn was next. Amusingly enough, she got a poplar wand. When none of the others seemed to pick up on the potential puns, Danny took it as a moral imperative to bring it up, and he and Tucker spent Mikey's turn gently teasing her.

Mikey wound up with a willow wand. Which again, struck Danny as weirdly appropriate, considering how shy Mikey was.

Then Sam went, and everything went to heck.

 _Nothing_ worked for her. Wands sprouted dead flowers and blew apart shelves, but, most often, they simply did nothing before Olivander yanked them out of her hand.

The people who had already gotten their wands eventually left. They had everything already, after all, and they wanted to either go home, or go back to their hotel rooms. (Except for Mikey. He wanted to look around Diagon Alley some more. The harried Mr. Snow was another story.)

Danny wasn't about to go anywhere, though, and neither were Tucker and Ellie. Meanwhile Angela and Maurice had long since resigned themselves to the weirdness of their son's friends. One might even say that they embraced it. They certainly liked Sam and Danny.

Finally, after Sam had gone through more than half the store, Olivander had stopped. "I'll have to think harder about how to find a match for you," he had said in his dry, papery voice, "or make one. I hope that the wands will be more eager to choose one of your friends."

"S-so," said Mr. Manson, "sh-should we stay, or go?"

"We should stay," said Sam decisively. She smiled at Olivander. "After all, something might come to you?" It was clear, at least to Danny, that her real reason for staying was sheer schadenfreude. She wanted to see how badly the wands reacted to the half-ghosts. (There _may_ have been a little bit of concern buried in there as well.)

There ensued a small staring contest between Danny and Ellie (which Danny lost), and a second one between Danny and Tucker (which Tucker lost).

The wands didn't like Tucker either. The closest thing to a match that came up for him (really, not a match at all) simply produced a trickle of sand and made Tucker's head hurt. The others appeared to do nothing, but after tenth wand Danny had started to notice the faint but distinct scent of ozone.

After what must have been the hundredth wand, Olivander shook his head. "I have a thought," he said, "a thought. But first... Let's try the two of you. Twins, unless I miss my mark?"

"That's right," said Danny and Ellie together.

"But Danny's older, so he should go first," added Ellie, pushing her brother forward.

The result of Danny's interactions with the wands was predictably bad. The phoenix feather wands burned him, the unicorn hair wands seemed to uncontrollably mimic his ghost powers, and the dragon heartstring wands were just flat-out chaotic. The shop was now a total wreck. A customer had actually walked in, turned on their heel and walked out whilst Danny was stuck on the ceiling following an introduction to a holly and unicorn wand.

However, it did not take Olivander as long to call a halt as it had when Sam and Tucker were trying out wands. He only had Ellie try a few wands, and no phoenix feather wands at all, before he stopped and sighed.

"Mr. Olivander-" started Professor McGonagall, who had been almost silent up until that point.

"One moment please," he said, and he disappeared into the back room. He came back out a moment later with a darkly lacquered, rectangular box, and set it on what remained of the front counter. "My great-grandfather was once acquainted with a seer of some note," began Olivander. "His name, that is, the seer's name, was Charles Work, and he was believed to be the last of his house. However," and now Olivander opened the box, turning it so that his customers could see what lay within, "he came to my great-grandfather, who was at that point a young man, and commissioned five wands for his what he called his many-times great-grandchildren."

"There are only four here," said Sam. It was true. There were only four wands, cut to a simple taper. One was almost black. Another was a deep brown. The third and fourth were a soft red gold.

"He took the fifth with him," said Olivander. "I am told that it was a beautiful wand. Silver lime. Good for Legilimency, among other things."

"Isn't that mind reading?" asked Tucker with a frown. Danny frowned too, wondering what the odds of Jazz _literally_ being able to read his mind were. Because if he were a gambler, he'd lay money on the 'seer' being Clockwork.

Professor McGonagall looked surprised as she answered him, "Why, yes, Mr. Foley."

Maurice coughed. "Excuse me, but why are you showing us these, Mr. Olivander?"

Olivander smiled. "I believe that your son had some affinity for walnut wands. If you would, Mr. Foley?"

"Are you sure?" asked Tucker. "If these were your grandfather's..."

"They were made to be used," Olivander reassured him.

Tucker picked the wand up (even from where Danny was standing, he could feel the moment the wand touched Tucker's fingers, and he knew that his friend had finally found his wand) and waved it gingerly. This time the wand gave off a brief shower of green sparks. Olivander clapped his hands. "Bravo!"

Tucker tilted his head at the wand, frowning. "Y'know," he said, "that almost felt familiar somehow."

Danny knew just what he meant. These wands felt a little ghostly, for lack of a better term.

Sam shrugged, and, without further prompting, picked up the black wand. She waved it in a lazy arc, and curling flowers wound out of the tip.

Olivander nodded, smiling. "Ebony does like those who will hold to their beliefs no matter what. And now the thorn pear for the twins."

Danny and Ellie picked up the remaining wands. Danny could feel whatever it was in the wand _connect._ It briefly touched his core, and his core welcomed it, and then it wound past his core to touch that other, older thing. A lazy wisp of blue-white mist issued from both the tip of his wand and his mouth. He glanced over at Ellie, who nodded. They traded wands.

The experience was not quite the same. It was stronger. Not that it looked that way from the outside, Danny supposed. He and the wand had given off the same puff of mist. He looked at Ellie, and they shrugged at each other.

"Fascinating," said Olivander. "Simply fascinating."

"Right," said Danny.

"So," said Ellie.

"How much is this going to cost?" said Sam.

Olivander blinked at her. "For you, young lady, nothing at all." The old man smiled beatifically at the teens of the group. "Your many-times-great-grandfather paid for everything."

"Is that really alright?" asked Danny.

"Quite alright," said Olivander.

"Well," said Professor McGonagall, "if everyone is done, then I will be showing you back to the Leaky Cauldron."

"We have one more stop to make," said Ellie.

"You guys can go on without us, though," said Danny, having mercy on the adults. "We know how to get back."

"Where are you going?" asked Tucker.

"The pet store, duh," said Ellie. "I've always wanted a pet," she added dreamily.

"Owl?" asked Danny.

"Everyone we'd write to will be there, so I hardly see the point."

"True," said Danny.

The pet store was much like any other pet store... Except for the pets, which were quite extraordinary. It was almost hard to remember that these creatures were all alive. Of course, as students, Danny and Ellie were limited to either an owl, a cat, or a toad. Not that Danny and Ellie would have picked anything magical, anyways, considering that their bodies still hadn't acclimatized to the stuff after being exposed to it all day.

"Toad?" he asked, not really serious.

"No, silly."

They made their way to the part of the store where all the cats were located, and spent a good fifteen minutes playing with both the kittens and the older cats.

"So, a black cat, then?"

"Come on, Ellie, do you think that I'd let you miss the opportunity to be a witch with a black cat? Be serious."


	11. Chapter 11

**So this one is a continuation of Day 8: Clones. Enjoy! Also, I seem to be unable to do line breaks properly, so I've improvised a bit. Please forgive me.**

Day 11: Stars

"So," said Tucker, "today's the day we finally get to meet them, huh?"

"If everything goes well, yes," said Danny, taking a bite from his sandwich. "Ellie and I are taking them stargazing."

"Ellie?"

"Yeah," said Danny, glancing at Sam, and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "We thought that it would be less confusing calling her Ellie. At least for now."

"Makes sense. But, stargazing? Not like, the mall or anything?"

"Little steps," Danny said quietly, wary of listeners. "You two and Jazz will be the first full humans they meet. Besides, stargazing is cool."

"Tech is better."

"C'mon dude. Remember when I showed you the Galilean Moons? You totally thought that was cool."

*** LINE

"We're going out now!"

"Okay sweetie! Remember, be back by midnight!"

"Will do, Mom!"

Danny slid into the front passenger seat of Jazz's car and buckled in. Jazz got in a little more slowly. "You have the telescope?"

"I put it in the trunk _hours_ ago, Jazz."

"Okay, okay. So, Tucker first?"

"His house _is_ closer."

"Dial back the sass there, Danny. I know you're excited," said Jazz, starting up the car.

They did pick Tucker up first, then Sam, just as the sun was going down.

"So, Danny," said Sam, breaking the silence as they crossed the official Amity Park city limits. "How are they getting here, anyway?"

"Natural portal," explained Danny. "There's a semi-permanent one out here."

"What, really?"

"Is that safe?" said Jazz.

"Do your parents know?"

"Guys. There are all sorts of weird spacial things in Amity. None of them are dangerous in and of themselves. And, no, I'm pretty sure Mom and Dad don't know about this one."

"What kind of weird spacial things?" asked Sam.

"Sydney's mirror, for one," said Danny, looking into the back seat. "The East-West Road, any convenience store on a Tuesday-"

"What?" asked Tucker, nonplussed.

"You know. Convenience stores. On Tuesdays. You have to have noticed that they're, like, ten feet deeper on Tuesdays, right?"

"I guess I don't really go into convenience stored all that often," admitted Sam. "But I thought that the East-West Road thing was just an urban legend?"

"No way. Jeez. You're missing out on the best shortcuts in town. Maybe I could make a map for you guys. Okay, Jazz, you need to turn right here to get to the park."

*** LINE

"We're going out now!"

"Okay sweetie! Remember, be back by midnight!"

"Will do, Mom!"

The door slammed closed, and Maddie turned back to her work. "Lake Eerie State Park," she muttered under her breath.

"Is that where Danny-boy and Jazzy-pants are going with their friends?" asked Jack loudly.

"No, I don't think so," said Maddie. "But it is where I've been getting those strange readings from every Friday."

"The ones that spike every two hours starting at 1:22 in the afternoon?" asked Jack, just barely more quietly as he settled heavily into a chair next to his wife.

"Yes. My program just managed to triangulate the signal." She drummed her fingers on the table next to her. "Want to go check it out? With Danny and Jazz are out tonight, we wouldn't have to worry about them being home alone, but we wouldn't have much time to prepare. We'd have to leave in," she checked her watch, "ten minutes to catch the next spike."

"Ha! We're Fentons, honey! We're always prepared!"

*** LINE

"Jack," said Maddie as they pulled into the parking lot with the Fenton Assault Vehicle, "isn't that Jazz's car?"

Jack squinted out the windshield. "Maybe. But didn't you say they weren't coming here?"

"I guess I was wrong," said Maddie. "Well, maybe we can meet up with them after we check out the source of that signal. It _has_ been a while since we all went stargazing together." She unbuckled only after Jack had turned off the engine (an important precaution when riding with Jack). "Let's hurry. We only have a few more minutes."

*** LINE

"There it is!" said Danny, flourishing one hand. His other hand was on the telescope case, which was slung over his shoulder. In front of him was a tall, if somewhat crooked tree. The tree had grown very strangely. At some point early in its life, the trunk had split in two before growing back together several feet up.

"I'm not seeing a portal, Danny," said Sam, picking a few leaves off her skirt. They had, perhaps inevitably, been attacked by a ghost plant on the way up.

"Give it a couple minutes," said Danny reassuringly. "We're a bit early yet." He checked his watch. "It should open at 9:22, stay that was for ten minutes, close, then open again at 11:22."

"That doesn't _sound_ super stable," said Tucker.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, stability's relative, I guess. It is punctual if nothing else."

*** LINE

Jack and Maddie had gotten themselves perched in a tree some distance away, just in case the cause of the spike was caused a ghost. Jack had brought the Fenton Insta-Blind (patent pending) so they were safely hidden from prying eyes and ears. Maddie suspected that a natural portal was the most likely cause of the odd readings, especially after examining the odd tree that appeared to be the source of the signal, in which case they didn't need to be so cautious. Still it was better to be prepared for anything.

They were very much not prepared for their children and their friends to walk out of the nearby trees and start chatting, not even a minute before the spike was scheduled. Maddie was even less prepared for their conversation, which was being picked up by the Fenton Spook-Veilance Scope (patented), to be about the portal.

"Mads?" said Jack, uncharacteristically quiet. "How do they know about this when we didn't?"

"I don't know," said Maddie, still frozen in shock.

Then the portal opened.

*** LINE

The opening portal was presaged by a slight change in the breeze, and a rippling sensation of static charge. Then the center of the opening in the tree sparked electric green and the portal simply bloomed into existence, like ink dropped onto paper.

As soon as the portal's edges were anchored in the flesh of the tree, a ghost zoomed out of it. Or, to be more accurate, a half-ghost zoomed out of it. Ellie wasn't even in ghost form. She was swiftly followed by a tall, broad young man whose dark hair was cut into a mohawk, a slightly smaller redheaded boy who wore an eye patch and took in every aspect of his surroundings with an aura of intense curiosity, a tallish, thin, almost skeletal boy with close cut dark hair and red-brown eyes, and, finally, a boy who looked exactly like Danny.

Ellie pounced on Danny, but was soon warded off with cries of "The telescope! Be careful of the telescope!"

Danny sighed after he made sure that his prized possession (even cheap telescopes were expensive!) was alright, then ruffled Ellie's hair and waved, smiling, at his other kinda-sorta-siblings. "Hi guys! I'm glad you could make it. So, this is my friend Sam, my friend Tucker, and this is our sister Jazz. Sam, Tucker, Jazz, this is Dustin," he indicated the tallest newcomer. "The redhead over there is Dmitri, that's Damien, standing next to him, and that's David in the back. I think that everyone already knows Ellie?" Everyone shyly murmured first greeting, then assent.

"I thought that you were calling yourself Daniel," said Tucker.

"I was," confirmed David, rubbing his arm, "but it got confusing really fast. Especially because of that Clockwork guy."

"Ugh," said Sam. "I know. Hasn't he ever heard of a nickname? He's almost as bad as Vlad."

All six half-ghosts flinched at the name.

"Soooo~!" said Jazz. "Let's go get set up! Danny, you said that you wanted to be out by the lake?"

"Oh, yeah! Just keep an eye out for the giant lake monster."

"The books I read said that giant lake monsters in the human world were a myth," interjected Dmitri even as everyone fell in behind Jazz.

Danny laughed. "This close to Amity, nothing is a myth. I did tell you that someone decided to call this place 'Lake Eerie?' That's 'Eerie' with two 'Es.'"

"Erie with one 'E' is a Great Lake, right?" asked the redhead.

"Right," said Jazz.

"Does that one have monsters?"

"Not to the best of my knowledge," said Ellie, "and I've been there a few times now."

Dmitri frowned, but nodded.

"Isn't Lady Pandora supposed to be mythical too?" asked Damien suddenly.

"And dragons," added Dustin in a surprisingly deep voice.

"But Pandora isn't anything like she is in the myth!" protested Dmitri. The small ghost groaned. "There's so much information in the books you sent us, Jazz, but so much of it is wrong, or contradictory, or only right sometimes, or only in some places! How do you keep it all straight?"

"Well," said Danny, before Jazz could answer, "it helps if you remember that most people don't know about the Ghost Zone, and that in most places the Ghost Zone doesn't have quite as much influence as it does here. So the information in the books Jazz sent you is what people think is true in those places. Which _are_ most of the world." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And people have spent a lot of time researching those things, so they _are_ probably true. Or you can treat them as true when you're talking to humans, at least. Does that make sense?"

"I guess."

"Experience also helps," added Jazz. "Try to keep an open mind, but... Don't be too credulous."

"Credulous?"

"It kinda means believing," Danny told the tallest half-ghost. "You doing okay back there, David?"

"Hm? Yes. I'm fine. I just thought that I hear something moving back there. Probably just- what were they called? Moose?"

"I think you're thinking of a deer," said Sam. "We do get them around here." Still, all of the teens examined the dark woods behind them with suspicion.

"I don't see anything," Ellie said finally.

"Yeah," said Danny, cautiously. "But let's keep the conversation normal from here out. Just in case."

As soon as the teens began to walk away, Maddie slithered down the trunk of their tree, and, as stealthily as possible, followed them as they made their way towards the lake. Jack had stayed in the Blind. Maddie had convinced him that he couldn't move quietly enough to avoid suspicion from the... whatever they were.

They didn't look like ghosts, but what else could they be? One of them, terrifyingly enough, looked exactly like Danny! What were they doing here? What were the children doing with them? Had they been replaced by ghosts? Possessed? And what were they going to set up by the lake?

There was a close moment when one of them, the second Danny, whom the first Danny (her Danny?) had introduced as David, had whirled when she had stepped on a branch. Otherwise, the teens, especially the largest one, had made enough of their own noise to mask hers.

When they walked out of the treeline, Maddie had to hang back. There wasn't any cover between there and the lake except for a few picnic benches, and the teens seemed to be heading for the picnic benches.

*** LINE

Danny put the telescope on the picnic table and sighed. Ever since David had said that he thought there was something living moving around behind them, Danny had been on high alert. He hadn't made a show of looking around, but he had caught several glimpses of teal out of the corners of his eyes. Of course his mother had somehow found them, and, judging by how she hadn't revealed herself yet, she had probably seen his siblings come out of the portal. Well, it was either that or David's appearance. He hadn't said anything to the others yet. He was determined to give them a good time, despite this.

So, he set up the telescope, keeping a subtle eye on where his mother was hiding in the trees, and kept up a conversation with the others. Jazz, Sam, Tucker, and Ellie were handing out snacks and laying out blankets. The other half-ghosts kept trying to help, but Ellie and the humans kept waving them off. This was, they reasoned, the others' first time hanging out. They should just relax. They could help next time.

Danny's first target was the Moon. It was out now, while most stars were only just coming out. Dmitri won the impromptu rock-paper-scissors contest to look. The others laid back while Ellie pointed out constellations.

Surprisingly, the clones could identify quite a few constellations. Then David pointed out that they, Ellie included, _did_ share many of Danny's memories. Which prompted quite a bit of 'space nerd' teasing. Which Danny steadfastly ignored. Until Damien revealed that Danny owned several pairs of space themed underwear and Danny retaliated by throwing a pinecone at him and threatening not to let him look at Venus.

Once Danny got the telescope centered on Jupiter, he decided that he really did need to talk to his mother. It was only a matter of time before someone started to use ghost powers.

"Hey, guys, I think I left something in the car." It took an effort not to rub the back of his neck. It wasn't exactly a tell, but it was something he did when he was nervous, and, as far as anyone else knew, there wasn't anything for him to be nervous about.

"What, seriously?"

"Yeah," said Danny standing up.

"I can go get it if you tell me what it is," said Jazz.

"Nah, you guys stay here, play with the telescope. I'm the idiot that left it, so I'll go get it."

He jogged in the direction of the parking lot, but as soon as he was out of sight he turned, back towards the trees.

He hoped that this wasn't going to wind up with him in pain.

*** LINE

Maddie had been watching the teens. Watching, and with the Spook-Veilance Scope, listening. However, except for a throwaway comment about how 'we all have some of your memories, Danny' the conversation had been disappointingly mundane.

"Are they even ghost?" asked Maddie, under her breath.

"Not really."

Maddie jumped and whirled, drawing an ecto-gun from her belt. In front of her stood Danny (her Danny?) his hands raised in a calming gesture.

"Who are you?" demanded Maddie.

Danny blinked. "What do you-" he grimaced, and one of his hands twitched. "Right. I'm Danny. Not David."

"Are you? Really?"

"Yes," said Danny. He didn't appear to be particularly alarmed by the gun pointed at him. "I really am."

"Prove it," demanded Maddie.

Danny seemed to think about that for a bit, then nodded sharply. "I'm going to assume that you were listening since they came out of the portal, so reciting a memory probably isn't going to cut it, is it?"

"It would help," said Maddie.

"Okay. So. When I was like seven or eight, we used to go to the science museum every weekend until this one time that I managed to get up on the outside of that one play structure that was supposed to be a model of the space station, and the museum guy freaked out and accidentally knocked me off while he was trying to get me down. We never went there again and you got kinda mad at me when I wouldn't tell you what I was doing up there in the first place." Here, Danny paused. "I was actually trying to do an EVA," he admitted. "I'm not sure how I thought that would work but, you know. I don't always think things through."

The gun wavered, but Maddie didn't lower it. "Alright, so you have my Danny's memories."

"Yeah. See, I told you that wouldn't be enough. Alright. I think that I can prove to you that this is really my body, at least, and then you can shoot me."

"What?"

"With that ecto-gun. It's low powered enough that it shouldn't do anything but knock me back if I'm really me, but strong enough that it should force out, or at least reveal, anything overshadowing me. Right?"

Maddie hesitated, and then nodded. She had almost forgotten that aspect of ecto-weaponry. "So how are you going to prove that its really you?"

Danny held out his hands, wrists up. "Take my pulse," he said simply.

Gun still raised in one hand, Maddie gripped one of Danny's wrists with the other. It took a minute, but eventually she located Danny's slow but steady pulse.

"Found it? Good, now shoot me." Danny squeezed his eyes shut.

Maddie stared at her gun for a moment, and the holstered it. She wasn't going to shoot her child. In all honesty, she likely wouldn't have been able to shoot him even if he hadn't offered any proof as to his identity.

"Who are they?" asked Maddie instead.

Danny opened his eyes slowly, cautiously. He glanced at the holstered ecto-gun, and the out at the little party by the lake, before returning his gaze to Maddie. "That's a little complicated. You know Plasmius?"

Maddie frowned. "Who?"

"I think that you and Dad call him the Wisconsin Ghost."

"What about him?"

"He tried to clone me," said Danny.

"What?! But they- that's not possible. They're too old."

"I know. Apparently, Plasmius tried to clone them the ghostly way instead of the human way. That's why they don't quite look like me except for David, and Ellie's a girl. I don't really know how that's supposed to work either, to be honest, but Dad's DNA-scanner thing recognizes them as Fentons so..." Danny rubbed the back of his neck. That little gesture actually did more to quell Maddie's worries than anything else Danny had offered so far.

"But- why?"

"I dunno. He does have that weird obsession with you though, so that may be connected. I don't really know."

"And they're living in the Ghost Zone because..?"

"Well, they aren't totally human." A frown creased Danny's face. "That doesn't mean that they aren't _people._ Just that they're different. Also, they don't legally exist, and it's a lot easier for them to hide from Plasmius in the Ghost Zone. Look, Mom, can you just trust me on this one? I know it's weird, but you have to remember that Dad sucked the house into an alternate dimension once and we treated that as a nuisance." He glanced past her again. "I'm gonna go back. I promise that I'll explain more to you later, but I don't want them to worry that I've been gone for too long."

"... Fine," said Maddie after a moment. "But you and your sister are explaining this the minute you get back to the car. Your father and I will be waiting."

"Got it," said Danny.

*** LINE

After that, Danny realized (finally) that he basically had to tell the others about what had happened. As soon as he was reasonably certain that his mother was no longer listening, he did.

"Tell us what you told her again," ordered Sam.

Danny groaned. "I already told you three times. Telling you again isn't going to change anything."

"So, are you going to come out to your parents, then?"

"Wow, Tucker, way to make things 100% more awkward." He buried his face in his hands, and then muttered, "Hey, maybe that would be a good distraction. Everyone knows that I've had a super crush on Tucker since fourth grade."

"What?!"

"He's joking," said Damien flatly.

"But _am_ I?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Danny. What were you going to do if she decided to attack you after all?"

"I was going to try to overshadow her, fly her back home and make her forget what she saw."

"Hold up," said David, scowling, "that sounds suspiciously like the sensible plan. Why didn't you do that?"

"Because it probably wouldn't have worked," said Danny, shooting a half-hearted glare at David. "To begin with, she's probably wearing some kind of Specter-Deflector-"

"Ugh, I remember those," said Dustin, blanching.

"Really?" asked Dmitri. "What are they?"

"They're belts that shock any ghost that touches you when you're wearing one. Can I continue?" He paused, then went on, "She could have other anti-overshadowing gear, too, and I wouldn't put it past her to be able to kick me out on her own. Then, even if the overshadowing thing went well, and I was able to scrub the memory, I'd have to track down Dad, because I'm sure he's around here somewhere, and do the same thing to him. And he's kicked Vlad out before."

David nodded, conceding the point. "I still think that you should have said something to us first."

"I know, I know. It was a dumb thing. I just didn't want to ruin your day, you all looked so happy, and..." Danny stopped himself with a visible effort. "I'm sorry. But could you help me figure out what I'm supposed to tell them now?"

"Actually, what you had already come up with is pretty good," said Jazz.

"Really?"

"Yes," said Jazz decisively. "For the most part, it's the truth, so that will make it easier to remember and easier to sell, but it doesn't really give away your hybrid status."

"But-"

"You had to say that they weren't entirely human. Anything else wouldn't be believable. Other than that... I think that we'll say that Plasmius kidnapped you to take your DNA around the time that you first met Danielle."

"He did do that though."

"Yes, I know. But we'll say that you and the others didn't exist yet, Ellie. Sam and Tucker rescued Danny from Plasmius's lair in the Ghost Zone in the Speeder. Um. You five didn't become self aware until two months ago. You managed to escape from Plasmius after a month, and you've been living in an abandoned lair since then. You found that portal," she waved at the trees, "after the first week and used Danny's memories to get in contact with him. Yeah. That'll work. They'll buy that."

"You don't think that they'll try to make us stay?" asked David with distaste. "Or live with them?"

"Ancients, I hope not," said Damien fervently. "No offense, Danny, but your parents kind of freak me out."

"I know the feeling," said Danny. "But I don't think they will, David. At least at first. Mom said that she and Dad would be waiting by the car. If they wanted to keep you guys from going, they'd be waiting by the portal."

"We could say that we'll destabilize if we stay out of the Ghost Zone for too long," said Ellie.

"Yeah," said Tucker, "you could blame it on being cloned the 'ghostly way.'"

"Aw, that's why I love you, Tuck."

"You're freaking me out, Danny. And you're making your girlfriend jealous."

"We're not dating!"

"Sure, and that's why you can respond in stereo. Sure."

"Can we get back on topic here?" asked David.

"Yeah," said Dmitri. "Besides, Ellie's the one with the crush on Tucker."

"What?!"

 _"Shut up, Dmitri!"_

"Seriously people?" said David. "Look, what if Maddie was lying when she said she would be by the car? What if she changed her mind?"

"I don't think that she was lying," said Danny. "As for changing her mind, well, if it comes to a fight, just consider the odds. And I can scout ahead invisibly. If she and Dad are still there, we can fly back to Amity and use the Fenton Portal."

David nodded. "Yeah. Okay. But if one of us goes to scout, we should have a buddy." He fell silent for a moment. "What if they _do_ want us to live with them? Not now, but later? If they buy your story."

"It won't matter," said Jazz. "You'll be in the GZ by then. Mom and Dad won't be able to make you do anything. They won't even be able to find you."

*** LINE

Maddie and Jack had let Jazz drive Sam and Tucker home, but they had insisted that Danny ride back to FentonWorks with them. Of course, that arrangement had only come about after they had checked all four children for signs of ghostly influence. They had, luckily, found none. Maddie was driving, so the ride was actually fairly sedate. Danny had spent most of it thus far with his head up against the window, watching the stars. He wished that they had had more time for them tonight.

"I'm so sorry, Danny," said Maddie suddenly.

"What?" said Danny, looking forwards. "Why?"

"You've been going through so much. Being harassed by ghosts. Being kidnapped. Being cloned. And we haven't even noticed." She made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "We're terrible parents."

"That's not true," denied Danny.

"We've been so obsessed with ghosts that we didn't even see what was right in front of us!" said Jack. "So obsessed that you didn't feel like you could trust us."

"That's not true," lied Danny. The reassurance sounded false and hollow even to him. "It's not your fault." There, that was true. "Its my fault. I was just scared. Pl- The Wisconsin Ghost said that if I told you, he'd... do stuff," Danny finished lamely. "I didn't want you to get hurt. I didn't want anyone to get hurt. They were scared, too."

"Oh sweetie," said Maddie. She was about to say that the other children had nothing to fear, but then remembered that she had almost shot at them. She had almost shot at Danny.

"No ghost is going to get the better of us, son!" exclaimed Jack, reaching back to pat Danny's leg. Danny smiled at him.

"Danny, you know that we love you, right?" asked Maddie.

"I know. I love you, too."

"We'd do anything to help you, Danny, and if you really trust them... If your- your friends need any help..."

"Thanks Mom," said Danny. "I know this is hard." He leaned back against the window to look up at the stars. "I know this is hard."


	12. Chapter 12

Day 12: Villains

Most of the ghosts that Danny fought were not what he would call evil. Some of them were entirely mindless, not even as intelligent as animals, nothing more than mobile masses of ectoplasm. Even many of the sentient ones were non-sapient: these were the animal ghosts, like Cujo and the Ectopi. As for the intelligent ghosts, a good number had never been human, and did not understand humans. The dead, on the other hand, often either didn't remember much of their lives, or had been ghosts for so long that they had forgotten how fragile humans could be.

So, Danny didn't consider most of the ghosts he fought evil. Often, he didn't even blame them for the fights they started. He had obsessions, too. He knew what it was like. Not that he fell into the trap of thinking of an obsession as something applied to a ghost externally. Not anymore, anyway.

No, most weren't evil, even if they were nuisances, like the Box Ghost, or alien, with alien values, like Nocturne. To be honest, Danny spent almost as much time keeping the ghosts safe as he did fighting them. He had no desire whatsoever to see them experimented on by human scientists.

Not even Vlad was evil.

Still. Some were.

Spectra, for example.

Danny was a little surprised by how much he hated Spectra, and her assistant Bertrand. If he was in a fight with that involved those two as well as other ghosts, he tended to go after them first. This did not go unnoticed.

"What's your problem with Penny, anyway?" demanded Ember as she swung her guitar at Danny's head. The two of them weren't fighting in earnest. They actually got along fairly well now, and Ember often put on mind-control-free concerts in Amity, but Ember still sometimes gave in to temptation, which resulted in Danny either chasing her off, or sucking her into a thermos.

Danny dodged lazily. No one had gotten hurt, but he had a problem with mind control. He didn't even like overshadowing people. Still, Ember's brand of mind control was fairly gentle. This fight was almost friendly. "Who's Penny?"

"You know, dipstick. Penny. I hang out with her and Kitty sometimes?"

"Still not ringing a bell." He shot a small bolt of ectoplasm at the rock-star ghost. She dodged it easily.

"Wears a red haired bodysuit all the time? Likes to talk?"

"A bodys-? Wait are you talking about _Spectra?"_ he couldn't keep the angry hiss out of his voice, and his next shot was both more powerful and on target, pushing Ember back several feet.

"Yeah, dipstick. So, what's your _problem?"_ That last word was accentuated by a strum on her guitar, which, in turn, formed a giant fist, which Danny barely dodged.

"What's _my_ problem?! Well, for one, she tried to kill my sister," the fight was close quarters again, and Danny was using his fists, "and before that, she tried to talk like, half the people in my class into killing themselves, and that's not the end of it."

Ember froze. Danny pulled his last punch not even an inch before it hit her face. "What are you doing?" he complained.

"What do you mean, that's not the end of it?"

"Well," said Danny, "after that she infected the whole school with some kind of ghost bug. They all got sick, and I'm pretty sure that they would have died if it kept on like that. Um. I also did some research about her after that. Wherever she goes, there's a spike in suicides."

"You're serious."

"No, I'm a pancake."

"God, you're such a nerd. Look, it's getting late, I'm going home. See ya, babypop." She turned and flew in the general direction of FentonWorks.

"Whatever," muttered Danny, glancing briefly at the sun. It wasn't _that_ late, and it wasn't as if ghosts really cared about that. Then, more loudly, "And no more mind-control!"

Oddly enough, he didn't see Spectra again, after that.

No, most ghosts weren't evil.


	13. Chapter 13

Day 13: Hide and Seek

Danny knew that Vlad was up to something, he just didn't know what.

It was the perfect opportunity for Vlad. Jack and Maddie were away at a paranormal convention. Jazz had been accepted to a prestigious spring break psychology camp. Sam's family had made plans to visit relatives in Europe. Tucker was also visiting family, on the east coast. Danny, meanwhile was stuck at home.

Normally, he would have been dragged to the convention with his parents, but not only did Danny think that a half-ghost showing up to a convention full of ghost hunters was a very Bad Idea, the ghosts that so frequently attacked Amity weren't about to stop just because it was spring break. Also, he really wanted to use the extra time to study. He had even asked the teachers if he could have some of his assignments ahead of time. Of course, that last reason was the only one he could tell his parents.

That's when Vlad stepped in, offering to keep an eye Danny while Jack and Maddie were away. Danny had tried to argue that he was fifteen, almost sixteen, but, honestly, even he hadn't expected that argument to hold. He had been a small, fragile fourteen when he walked into the portal that first time, and he hadn't grown since then, even if he had developed some muscles.

At least he wasn't going to be staying at Vlad's house. Instead, Vlad would be 'checking up on him' once or twice a day, and making sure that he was really studying, not slacking off, or sneaking out.

Danny sighed heavily, and glared at his English homework. His parents had only been gone for two hours, his sister for three, and already he was too keyed up to focus on Shakespeare. He kept expecting Vlad to come swinging in the window, or to show up ringing the doorbell.

Not that Vlad would act so soon. The man liked to take his time, and he had all week. A whole, entire week of Danny being all alone with no backup. Danny was half convinced that Vlad had had something to do with that, too. Maybe not with Tucker and Sam's family vacations, but how hard would it be for the billionaire to arrange an invitation to the paranormal convention for Jack and Maddie, or for the acceptance to the camp for Jazz?

Danny shook his head. This wasn't helping. His parents had turned on all of FentonWorks' defenses before they had left. As long as Danny was inside, Vlad couldn't sneak up on him in ghost form, even if Vlad could probably bat away most of the weapons. He only had to worry about Vlad bothering him in human form, unless he went out to stop a ghost.

Maybe he could distract himself with food. It was about dinnertime, and his mom had said that there were leftovers. Any leftovers in the Fenton fridge were certain to be contaminated with ectoplasm, but, as Danny was half-ghost, that wasn't a health problem as long as it wasn't contaminated enough to spontaneously animate. It could be a flavor problem, though.

Danny abandoned his homework, and went downstairs. Before he opened the fridge, he snagged a handful of fast food ketchup packets from the kitchen junk drawer to use as an offering to the undead hot dogs that inhabited it. The hot dogs typically listened to Danny, Danny was the more powerful ecto-entity (he hesitated to call the undead hot dogs ghosts), but it was always easier when he had an appropriate bribe.

He scattered the packets on the bottom of the fridge, watched the ecto-dogs collect them, and then shooed the little sausage-like creatures back into the meat drawer. Then he leaned in and began to examine the options. They weren't exactly great. He would probably have to go shopping at least once this week, or eat out. Or chance the slightly glowing taco mix. Even Danny didn't like the look of that.

Finally, Danny selected a carton of leftover Chinese takeout. He was pretty sure that this was what they had on Wednesday (although he had been kind of out of it that day; he blamed Ember's new song), and it was only Friday now, so it shouldn't be too bad. He was actually kind of surprised that it had lasted this long. Jazz loved Chinese food.

He put the Chinese food to one side, and quickly poured himself a glass of milk as well. That done, he double checked that no ecto-dogs had escaped, and shut the fridge.

He took a plate from the cabinet and put the Chinese food on it. To Danny's delight, it turned out to be chow mein, which was his favorite type of Chinese food. He put it in the microwave, and turned it on for one minute, drinking the milk while he waited. The microwave dinged, and Danny took out the chow mein and began to eat, contemplating what to do about Vlad as he did so.

But about halfway through, Danny began to feel... Odd. Light. Almost like his ghost half was closer to the surface than usual. That was not a good thing when all of the house's defenses were turned on. He forced it back down, feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous.

It couldn't be the food, could it? Maybe it wasn't from Wednesday. Maybe it was older. Maybe it had gotten contaminated with something other than run of the mill denatured extoplasm. Maybe he had some allergy to something in the chow mein.

Danny pushed the food away and stood up from the table, steadying himself with one arm. No, he definitely wasn't feeling well now.

He managed to make it, stumbling, into the bathroom. He was sweating now. Why was it so hot? He leaned over the toilet and retched, bringing up all of the chow mein. There. If it was some kind of food poisoning, it wasn't going to get any worse, at least.

He knelt in front of the toilet for a few minutes, shaking, before he came to the conclusion that he wasn't magically going to feel better just because he had vomited. Actually, he _was_ feeling worse. So he pried off his shoes and climbed into the bathtub. It was harder than he thought it should have been. He banged his foot hard against the side of the tub in some bizarre underestimation of height.

Once he was in, though, he turned on the shower, with the knob as far over to cold as possible, and let the soothing water run down over him, clothes and all. Yes, he thought as his vision grayed out, this was better.

*** LINE BREAK ***

Vlad spent a great deal of time studying ghosts.

He had, for example, once observed the interactions between child ghosts, that is, ghosts with a primal age lower than twenty-one, and adult ghosts. They were not at all what he would have expected from his own interactions with Daniel. Indeed, he had been shocked at how docile, how malleable, the children had been, both with natural and adoptive parents.

He was uncertain as to why Daniel was so different, but he supposed that it must be either due to his hybrid status, or his early, negative interactions with adult ghosts. It really was a pity. If only he could wipe the slate clean. Start over. Or, perhaps, increase whatever bonding instinct existed that made child ghosts so trusting.

But that line of inquiry hadn't borne fruit. Vlad had abandoned it in favor of harsher, more forceful methods. Cloning. Intimidation. Shows of power. Unfortunately, those hadn't worked either. In fact, they had backfired in his face.

Then, just a few months ago, he came across an interesting rumor in the ghost zone. There was an elixir that could force one of the dead to the lower end of their age range. Most of the dead only had a range of a few years, centered on their primal age. The age that they had died. For a child like Daniel, though, a few years was significant.

Vlad had acquired a sample of the elixir and duplicated it. He had tested it, first on sub-sapient animal ghosts, and then on a few enemies, so that he could be sure that it worked as advertised. It seemed that the effect was somewhat disorienting, but not particularly harmful, and wore off in a few days.

The next step, of course, was to hunt down a ghost closer to Daniel's own age. This was simple enough. There was a spiritual reflection of Casper High School in the Ghost Zone that had, over the years, attracted a number of ghost who had died in their teen years. Not as many as there first appeared to be; many of the students were either born ghosts or mere echoes. Still, it would serve Vlad's purposes quite nicely.

Spiking the school's food with the elixir was simplicity itself, and the elixir worked even better than Vlad had expected on the young ghosts. None of them lost more than five years, however, they were much more disoriented than the older ghosts had been. They seemed to experience memory loss, slight personality changes, regression to a more childish point of view, and, most importantly in Vlad's opinion, a sharp increase in their reliance on, and obedience to, the older ghosts, the teachers, that inhabited the school. At that point, the elixir changed from something that Vlad could use to harass Daniel, to something far more important.

The last test was on himself. The last thing that he wanted was for Danny to have a bad reaction to the elixir because he was only half-ghost. Vlad's primal age was twenty-five. That's when his spectral body had finally formed, five years after the portal accident. He took a great deal of care to appear older. He was supposed to be in his forties, after all. The result was a pleasant five days spent as a twenty-year-old in his cabin in the Rockies.

All that was left was to arrange for Daniel to be home alone, and to find some way to administer the elixir to him. Both were easier than he expected. Jasmine and Daniel were suspicious, of course, but he had been careful not to leave any traces of involvement. The Manson and Foley family trips were just a stroke of luck.

When Daniel took the milk out of the refrigerator, Vlad's alarm went off. Smiling, confident of success, he called his chauffeur (one of a number of ghost servants), and asked to be brought to FentonWorks. He brought his laptop with him so he could keep an eye on Daniel through the cameras he had placed throughout FentonWorks.

It was all going well until Daniel started to show signs of distress. He shouldn't have. The elixir's transformation was painless. When Daniel ran to the bathroom, Vlad got out of the car and ran to the FentonWorks door.

He had a key, of course. Jack had given it to him ages ago. He unlocked the door and went inside. Upstairs, he could hear a shower running. He took the stairs quickly. Daniel might need him.

The door to the bathroom was open. Over the white noise of the shower, Vlad could hear soft moaning, sobbing noises. He entered slowly, not wanting to leave himself open to attack if it turned out that Daniel wasn't in quite as much trouble as he appeared to be.

Vlad peered over the side of the tub and froze. That couldn't be Daniel. It simply couldn't be. None of the other ghosts he had tested the elixir on had regressed more than five years. The child that was curled in a fetal position in the tub couldn't have been much more than five.

"Daniel?"

The boy's eyes, heartbreaking sky blue, snapped open and met Vlad's. Yes, that was Daniel. Vlad's disbelief softened, and he reached out to the frightened child.

Daniel promptly vanished.

*** LINE BREAK ***

Vlad had made a number of mistakes. In this particular instance, the first, and most egregious error was in his observation of child ghosts. Ghost children could be remarkably well behaved and cooperative, willing to follow instructions, trusting, etcetera, but only with _trusted_ adults. Vlad did not, in any way shape or form fall into that category. Had he been approached by Clockwork, Frostbite, Pandora, or Wulf, the result would have been exactly what Vlad had expected. Confusion, fear, desire to be protected, pliability, desire to please. That kind of thing.

As it was, Danny's first instinct was to get away. So he did. It was easy, even in his present, confused state. He was a ghost. Disappearing was what ghosts did.

Staying out of the strange man's reach was harder, but he managed. In addition to being a ghost, he had spent almost two years fighting ghosts and ghost hunters. And ghosts that were hunters. And Vlad himself, if it came to that. He might not really remember all that at the moment, but he had retained the appropriate reflexes and skills. His change in size did not particularly hinder him. He had experience fighting creatures much larger than he was.

Once out of the bathroom, Danny made the strategic decision to abandon his clothes. They were much too large, and wet besides. If he kept them they would lead a trail of water right to him. He threw them to the left, creating a false trail, and went right. He had a vague impression that he might find more clothing and shelter in that direction.

He didn't use the door. He went through the wall and dropped the remnants of his invisibility. The room beyond was familiar, but off somehow. He wrestled a t-shirt from one of the drawers and used it as a towel, then discarded it. He took another, darker, t-shirt from the drawer and pulled it on. It was loose, tent-like on his slight figure.

It wouldn't be long before the man found him if he stayed here, so Danny had to come up with some kind of strategy. He tried to remember if he had ever met the man before, but when he tried to think back, everything was just a blur. He knew that the man was dangerous, though, and he must have something to do with Danny not remembering anything.

Danny glanced at the window. He could run. The park would be a good place to hide, set up an ambush. But there would be people there. People who could get hurt. So that was a no-go. A Bad Idea. People couldn't get hurt. No. So... He had to stay here.

There was a thump outside, and Danny climbed up the bookshelf, the one by the door. He wished Jazzy was here. She would be able to come up with a plan.

The door opened and he flickered out of the visible spectrum, holding his breath. When the man checked under the bed, he slipped out. Once around the corner he dropped invisibility again. It took a lot of energy to hold onto, and using lots of ghost powers here, in the house, didn't seem like a good idea for some reason.

Maybe he could scare the man away? The idea appealed to him, but he doubted that the man could be frightened easily. Perhaps he could wear him down, instead. Hit and run tactics. Annoy him to death. Or at least into giving up and going away. That may work. He knew the house well enough.

It would be like a game of hide and seek.


	14. Chapter 14

**This is a continuation of Day 1: Electricity, and Day 9: Power Surge.**

Day 14: Flowers

Sam marched up to the door and rang the doorbell. Then she rang it again. And again. And again, until she was just mashing the button. She knew Tucker was in there. She had seen him through the window.

Finally, the door flew open, revealing her dark-skinned friend.

"What do you want?" he demanded irately.

"We need to talk," said Sam, her voice neutral.

Tucker barked off a humorless laugh. "About what, Sam? About how I screwed up? Because, newsflash, I can tell that I screwed up on my own, thank you very much."

"It isn't about that," said Sam. "Although, since you brought it up," she shrugged, trailing off. "Can I come in?"

Tucker frowned, then nodded and stood aside. Sam walked in, and looked around Tucker's small, neat living room. On the couch end table she caught sight of what she needed.

She pointed. "One of your mom's?" she asked.

Tucker glanced at the wilted flower and shrugged before looking back at Sam. "Yeah," he said. "But it isn't like its going to live. None of us have green thumbs. So what is this about, if it isn't about you chewing me out?"

Sam rolled her eyes and walked to the little potted plant. "C'mon, Tucker, I'm not that bad. Besides, what happened yesterday clearly wasn't your fault. Danny's electrical powers have been acting up all week."

Tucker flinched. He remembered how hard it had been for Danny when they had first come in.

"But I don't think that was all that was going on," Sam continued. She put her hand on the wilted plant. "Watch this."

The plant began to glow slightly, then the stem began to lift, the leaves to fill out, to turn green. Finally, the wilted buds unfurled, revealing violet flowers. Sam pulled her hand back and sat heavily on the couch.

"What _was_ that?" demanded Tucker, prodding the delicate purple petals.

"Leftovers," said Sam. "Remember the thing with Undergrowth?"

"Ugh. Yeah. You mean, this is from that?"

"Kinda. After the fight Danny brought me to the Far Frozen, remember? So that they could make sure that there weren't going to be any lasting effects." Sam shrugged. "Well. There were. Not from Undergrowth specifically, I guess. I didn't follow everything that Dr. Iceclaw was saying. But apparently, between Danny's weirdness, being near the portal when it turned on, growing up in Amity, and getting mind-controlled by Undergrowth, I've developed a little, tiny ghost core."

"But," said Tucker frowning, "I've had all that stuff happen to me, too."

"Yeah. And, if you'll remember, after the Egypt incident, Danny wanted you to get looked at too, but you said that you'd rather stab yourself in the eye with a blunt pencil than go to anything that even vaguely resembled a hospital. So."

"Oh yeah. I remember that." Tucker blinked. "Wait. Are you saying that that had happened to me? That I have a ghost core? But I haven't done anything like," he gestured to the flowers, "that."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Think about what we were talking about before." Tucker stared at her blankly. Sam tried another tactic. "Remember when Danny first got his electrical powers? He kept getting shocked? Just like you were today?"

"You think that I'm getting lightning powers."

Sam shrugged. "Yeah. I guess. Anyway I'm pretty sure that the power outage at the school is on both of you. Speaking of which..." Sam pulled an envelope from her back pocket and held it out to Tucker. "Here."

"What is it?"

"A letter. From Danny. You do know what those are, right?"

"Why?"

"Because he's afraid of touching his phone right now, and he doesn't want a repeat of what happened at school. Are you going to take it or not?"

Tucker reached for it, then hesitated. "You'd better just put it on the table. I don't want to shock you or... whatever."

"Okay," said Sam, putting the letter to one side and standing up. "Look, I've got to get home soon. Just try to get under control. Remember what Danny did when his were coming in. Or just try to expend it all. That's what I did for the first couple of weeks."

"Okay. Thanks, Sam."

"Hey, what are friends for? And water that plant more often!"


	15. Chapter 15

Day 15: Girls

Sam had never really been into 'girl stuff.' Not even way back when, before she started to hang out with Danny and Tucker.

Danielle had a different problem She hadn't ever had any one who could, or would, talk to her about that. Between Vlad being a jerk and Danny being loving but clueless, she didn't even know how to tie a braid.

So they needed help.

They went to Jazz first. But Jazz was, well. Jazz. A Fenton. Just as clueless as the rest of her family, just in a different way. When they asked for help, she first misinterpreted the request to mean that they wanted some kind of therapy thing. Once they finally cleared that up, it turned out that Jazz had no idea how to handle this either.

Which left them with a problem. None of them had friends who did this kind of thing. Not even Jazz. Jazz was the mom friend for the troubled kids (which included Sam, Tucker, and Danny, if she thought about it). She had so little contact with regular people that it was laughable that they had once thought of her as the normal Fenton.

Actually... That wasn't quite true. Sam did have one friend who was into parties, and dresses, and makeup, and hairstyles.

So that's how the four girls wound up in front of Dora's castle, asking a ghostly dragon princess to help them get Danielle made up for a date.


	16. Chapter 16

Day 16: Gift

When Danny woke, wondering why he was awake so early in the morning it was still dark even though it was summer, there was a little black box on his bedside table. This was odd, because he was fairly certain that he hadn't left anything on his table last night except for his phone and his alarm clock. Danny frowned at it and levered himself up, rubbing sleep out of his eyes with one hand.

Once he was sufficiently awake and sitting upright on the edge of the bed, he examined the box more closely. He didn't pick it up, of course, not yet. Not with his life. Not with his enemies. Not with his family, either, for that matter. It would be just like his parents to give him some kind of ghost weapon thing that would activate as soon as he touched it.

Although he would usually notice if one of them came into his room Normally, he would notice a ghost coming into his room, too, but there were a few who could hide from him, avoid his ghost sense, and he had been exhausted last night.

It was a square little thing, perhaps three inches to a side, neatly wrapped in dark paper and tied with a black ribbon and bow. It looked like there was a subtle pattern on the paper, too, but it was dark enough that Danny couldn't make it out, even with his excellent (read: inhumanly good) night vision.

Without getting up from the bed, Danny flicked on the light. His telekinesis wasn't much good in a fight, but it was just fine for stupid little things like that. And if the box reacted to it...

But it didn't.

The box just sat there, still and dark. The pattern was little black stars, made of a shinier material than the rest of the paper.

It probably wasn't from his parents. They didn't do subtle. If it was from his parents, it would probably be caution orange. Or bright teal. Or neon green. Or have little ghosts all over it.

It almost looked like something Sam would put together. She would have liked all the different kinds of black. But that would mean that Sam had snuck it into his room. She wouldn't have done that. She knew how paranoid Danny could be. Although, she _could_ have done it. She, Tucker, and Jazz were kind of blind spots for him.

He prodded it with one finger. It didn't eat him, so he picked it up. Then froze. Was the box... Ticking? He slowly brought the box closer to his ear. When he did so, a tag that had been hidden behind the ribbon fell loose. The seal on the tag caught Danny's eye and he sighed in relief. No one sane would appropriate Clockwork's sigil, and Clockwork wouldn't send Danny a bomb. Probably. The guy had a weird sense of humor sometimes. All the time. About time.

If he had sent Danny a bomb, it was for the greater good, so Danny couldn't really complain.

Danny let himself flop back onto the bed, really feel that relief. His eyes drifted half shut. His fingers traced over the little box, feeling the tooth of the paper, smoothness of the stars, the softness of the ribbon. He could almost feel the _tick-tick-tick_ noise through his fingertips. Like a heartbeat. It had almost lulled him back to sleep when he realized what was happening, and, grudgingly, sat back up.

He looked at the tag again, but it just held Clockwork's symbol. Nothing else.

He unwrapped the box with care, first slipping off the ribbon, then unfolding the paper. Clockwork hadn't used tape, or glue, or anything like that, for which Danny was oddly thankful. There was something about the way it looked, the way it felt, that reminded him of something. He wasn't sure what. The box inside was made of some kind of dark, almost black, wood. Now that the paper was off of it, it gave off a chill, like it had been in a cold place for a long time. Danny breathed in the faint scent of lime and salt and knew that whatever the box had been made of, it had grown in the Ghost Zone.

The chill ran pleasantly up his arms as he turned the box over in his hands, trying to find the seam in the wood.

Finally Danny managed to get the box open. There was a little white card on the top.

Danny picked it up, opened it, read it.

 _For strength in times ahead._

 _Happy Deathday, Daniel._

It wasn't signed. It didn't need to be. Clockwork's handwriting was distinctive.

He put the card to the side. What remained in the box was what Danny immediately recognized as a pocket watch. It was small, the diameter halfway between that of a quarter and a half-dollar, silvery, tending towards blue and green, and the outer case was carved with symbols that Danny couldn't place. When he picked the watch up, a fine, thin chain came with it.

There was a clasp on the side, and Danny opened it. There was a clock on one side, as expected. What Danny hadn't expected was the picture nestled in the other half.

There were two figures in the picture, and it took him a while to process their identities, not because they were unfamiliar to him, but because of what they were wearing. They were wearing wedding clothes. Ghost wedding clothes. Because both of the people in the picture were ghosts.

One was Danny, and wow, did he look weird with his hair brushed down flat like that. Not to mention the suit, which was a cross between something modern and something that wouldn't look out of place in Dora's kingdom.

The other person in the picture was Sam. Her eyes were green, her hair a dark, red-purple. She was wearing black, with lace. She was smiling. Glowing.

But if she was a ghost, she was dead.

A whimper rose in his throat.

There was a flash, and he was Phantom, the watch looped around his neck. He didn't remember the flight to Sam's house.

He phased invisibly through to Sam's room. She was fine. Asleep. He checked the other rooms. Her parents. Her grandmother. The yard. Everything was fine. Normal. He floated back up.

He looked at the picture again. The sun was coming up over the horizon now, and his night vision was even better in ghost form. He tried to see if he could make out any details as to _when_ this would be. When it would be. Why it would be.

But although Danny could certainly recognize her, the ghostly glow was enough to obscure anything like lines, and blur the contours of her face.

He thought back to the note.

What was going happen, for this to be a comfort?


	17. Chapter 17

**I really like the Ghost King Danny idea, but I never really see how that comes about beyond just the whole 'defeated Pariah' thing. So I thought that I'd write a thing? Very headcannon-y.**

Day 17: Royalty

It was not common for the Ancients to be seen together. It was even less common for them to be seen at the Panopticon. As a rule, they did not particularly care for the Observants. Yet here they were. Five out of the seven, at least.

They had entered in order of age, which did not bode well for the Observants. Although the eldest was to some degree bound to their will, he, for that same reason, had the most cause to hate them. To make matters worse, he was smiling.

It was enough to make the Observant serving as secretary, a very junior member, flee as soon as they were asked to announce the Ancients' presence to the council.

The eldest Ancient's smile broadened, showing the points of his fangs. He turned his ruby eyes to the woman standing behind him. "See?" he said, brushing imaginary dirt off of his purple robes.

She might have rolled her eyes. It was hard to tell. Like Clockwork's, her eyes were a solid color. Hers, though, were black, not red. What she definitely did do was scoff and readjust the hood of her own robe so that it more completely covered her curly hair. "I'm so glad that you can still enjoy a petty scare after all this time."

"Let him have his fun, Lady Nephthys."

Nephthys looked sharply at the youngest Ancient. "I suppose it is your fun as well, hm?"

Fright Knight had the grace to look abashed. "That is a large part of my function."

"They wouldn't have anything to be afraid of if they hadn't been greedy," opined the four-armed warrior woman that stood in front of the knight. "Greedy, intolerant, bigoted fools," she muttered under her breath.

"They've been in power for millennia," said the final Ancient. "They aren't fools, Pandora. Corrupt on the other hand..." Nocturne shrugged, stars swirling in the darkness that hung from his shoulders.

Pandora sighed, passing a spear from one hand to another. "I know. But the way they let real evil go free is beyond irritating."

"As opposed to fake evil."

"You know what I mean, Nephthys."

They fell silent as only ghosts could. Not even the sound of breathing disturbed the grandiose entry hall of the Observants' citadel.

"Are they really making _us_ wait?"

"They're arguing about what we are here for," said Clockwork.

Fright Knight chuckled. "Their fear is for all of the wrong reasons."

"So, not a one of them has happened on the purpose of our visit."

"No," said Clockwork.

"It isn't even an inkling."

This time it was Nocturne who barred his teeth in a predatory smile. "Just imagine the chaos when we tell them."

The Ancients chuckled grimly. They were here with regards to a serious matter, after all.

Finally, the Observant secretary returned with a herald, who hurriedly ushered them into the High Council chambers.

Another herald nervously announced them as they filed into the large, stadium-like room.

"Clockwork, Master of Time.

"Nephthys, Master of Death.

"Nocturne, Master of Dreams.

"Pandora, Master of Hope.

"Fright Knight, Master of Fear."

Fright Knight remained standing even as the others relaxed into their seats. Across the circular room, and a few levels up, the leader of the Observants stood from their throne-like chair.

"Welcome, Ancient Ones," he said, spreading his green hands and blinking his single, great eye. "May I ask, why have you come, when you visit our hall so rarely?"

"The Crown of Fire fades," announced Fright Knight in his deep, echoing voice.

There was a beat of silence, and then the whispers started.

"It fades? But then-?"

"But Pariah survives!"

"It explains the tremors..."

"The orbits changing-"

"The Core-?"

"The islands fragmenting-"

"But there are no candidates!"

"Perhaps Frostbite could-?"

"Doors vanishing-"

"We're doomed!"

"All that effort-"

"We could make one, surely."

"Not with Undergrowth and Vortex-"

"Curse Pariah for making those two Ancients!"

Nephthys laughed loudly and without humor. "Curse Pariah?" she echoed. "Yes, yes, curse Pariah. But remember, we didn't approve those madmen. _You_ did."

"In any case," said Clockwork, sweeping the argument away with a wave of his hand, "we already _have_ a candidate."

"One who has already defeated both Undergrowth and Vortex," added Pandora. "So you need not worry about them and their approval."

Another beat of silence, and then the first among Observants hissed, "You mean that little abomination you keep as a pet?"

The temperature in the room dropped, and time seemed to _stretch_ uncomfortably. "He has performed not one, but three great services to the Realms. The defeat of Pariah Dark, the destruction of the GIW missile aimed at the Core, and the recovery of Pandora's Box. He has passed the tests I set for him."

"He has passed _all_ our tests," said Nepthys. "Including mine. Repeatedly."

Nocturne nodded. "He escaped the dream I wove for him, thereby proving his allegiance to what is true over what is false."

"He braved my labyrinth," said Pandora. "Braved it, and conquered it. That takes both wit and strength."

"He defeated me," added Fright Knight. "I may therefore no longer count for this vote, but trust me when I say, I did not hold back."

"We will never accept him!" shouted one Observant. Several others picked up the cry.

"It doesn't matter what you will do," sneered Nocturne. "He has performed a great service to the Realms, and he has either defeated in combat or gained the approval of every Ancient."

"We are here to inform you of our decision," said Clockwork, "not to ask for your permission to make it."

The head Observant growled. His eye looked bloodshot, but that was an illusion. Ghosts did not have red blood. "What of the people? That little..." the Observant seemed to be at a loss for an appropriately vile epithet, _"creature_ is so hated, it will be destroyed before the end of the week."

"He isn't hated," objected Pandora, clearly offended.

"Regardless of which, he has an uncanny knack of convincing his enemies to work with him," said Nocturne.

This started off another rumble of troubled conversation. The Observants, as a whole, acted to preserve order and pass judgment. They had taken oaths not to act on their knowledge, as limited as it was, of the future, but not all of them kept those oaths. They had spent centuries as the preeminent governing body of the Infinite Realms. They did not want anyone to be placed above them, much less the person the Ancients had chosen, a person that they had personally wronged.

Then one voice rose above the others. "Excuse me! Excuse me! What about the Rite of Ascension?"

"What about the Rite of Ascension?" asked Clockwork.

"Well," said the Observant, "unless I'm much mistaken, he cannot possibly be stable enough to survive it. He is simply too new."

"We are aware of this. There are systems put in place for such a scenario."

"You mean, a regency council?"

"But would that stop the decline of the Realms?" interrupted another Observant before any of the Ancients could answer.

"Yes," said Clockwork shortly. He floated up from his seat. "And to your next question, no, his status as a hybrid will not interfere. Now that we have completed those formalities," he said, his eyes falling on the stenographer, "record this: We, the Council of Ancients, chosen by the kings of the past to guide the Realms, do hereby declare Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom Prince and King-in-Waiting of the Infinite Realms. Long may he reign."


	18. Chapter 18

Day 18: Revive

He stared at the small, stained, tarnished mirror behind the lab's only sink. Green eyes stared back at him. They were round, slightly tilted, a little bruised, as if their owner hadn't slept well recently. They were glowing. _Glowing._

His own eyes, shaped identically, but blue, and distinctly _not_ glowing, were nowhere to be seen.

A sound rose in the back of his throat. Distress. High pitched and keening. Whatever it was that his friends were saying behind him as he gripped the edge of the sink and _tried to find his eyes in the mirror where were they where were they where_ stopped dead and he whirled because _what was wrong what if they were hurt._

Sam had her hands pressed over her ears, her eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Tucker, on the other hand, had his arms wrapped around his head, his eyes almost screwed shut, teeth bared. They were afraid. He knew them well enough to know that. What were they afraid of? There was nothing here to be afraid of.

Oh.

Him.

*** LINE BREAK ***

He was on his bed when he woke up, on top of the sheets, fully clothed. His skin felt too tight. Torn along jagged lines. Burnt and tender. His head ached, but there was something damp and cool resting on his forehead. There were people breathing in the room. Two of them. He could hear them.

(He wasn't one of them.)

He gasped. The air tasted fresh and cool and sweet. His eyes fluttered open and his hand went to his head. Tucker said something, but he couldn't process the words. Sam leaned into his field of vision.

"Danny?" Her voice sounded rough, thready, pitched too high. Like she had been crying. "Are you alright?"

Danny? Was that him? It must be. It sounded right. It sent a ripple through his soul. An electric twang. "I'm okay."

She sighed, relief palatable. "We thought you were gone, Danny. When the portal turned on-"

Green flashed over his vision and he jerked away, pulling himself into a sitting position, the washcloth falling into his lap. He was breathing now, he was breathing and there was something cold inside him. He could hear something like music with his soul. It was underground. Reaching out. Calling him.

(There was cold lightning in his veins.)

(And it _hurt.)_

"Danny, Danny, breathe man. Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth."

He followed Tucker's instructions and gripped Sam's hands. He could see her wince, but he had to know that she was there. That they were really there. That this was real.

"How did you..?"

"I used to have this anxiety problem. Dude, are you okay?"

He looked down at his hands where they grasped Sam's. They looked normal. A little white around the knuckles, but normal.

(Some part of his mind told him that they should be burnt. Singed.)

"I- I don't know," he said, still staring at his hands.

"I shouldn't have asked you to go into the portal," said Sam abruptly. "I should never have- I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

It all comes back to him at once, the recollection like a flood.

(But there is an anchor tied to his heart. He's here now. There's a reason for that.)

He doesn't panic. Instead, he starts to laugh. This makes his friends more worried.

(They had been afraid for him. He sees that now.)

He tries to explain. "You wanted to go in," he said to them. He's holding onto both of them now. "Remember? You wanted to go in. But it was just me. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank God. You're okay. Oh my God. Are you okay?" The last was said with intensity.

It took a long time, but Danny finally got his emotions under control. Finally stopped laughing. Finally stopped crying.

Then Sam and Tucker told him why they hadn't called the hospital.

Told him that he had fallen through their arms when he stumbled out of the portal. Told him that his hair had been white, his eyes green. Told him how he had woken up the first time. How he had passed out again. Told him that he had been flickering in and out of visibility when they carried him up the stairs. Told him that he had stopped breathing. More than once.

But he was here. He was alive. He was awake.

(And there was a reason for that.)

Everything would be fine.


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you to everyone who has read so far!**

Day 19: Phandom

At first Danny had been flattered. Honestly, he was still a little flattered. But there was a line between being a supportive fan and being in a freaking cult. A wide, caution-yellow line, with do-not-cross signs, police tape, and spikes.

The little kid with the doll who wanted to know what it was like to fly? Fan. The police officer who always gave him thumbs up and asked him for an autograph? Fan. The people who wrote letters? Fans. Paulina and Dash and the Casper High Phanclub? Fans. That out-of-town girl who had thrown her underwear at him? Creepy (incredibly creepy, he had freaked out so hard), but a fan. Fans did that kind of thing. Those were fans. Some of them were obsessive and creepy, but, hey, lots of public figures had creepy, obsessive fans. That was a normal thing.

This, this was not a normal thing. These were not fans. This was a cult.

Danny actually liked having fans. Appreciated them. He had spent so long being hated, and so many people still hated him, that it was reassuring to know that some people liked him and valued what he did.

He did not like this.

At all.

Still, he plastered a fake smile on his face. "Wow!" he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the robed figures, pointedly ignoring the dead rabbit on the floor. "That's, you know, great. That's great." He hadn't really heard what they had said. Something about serving him. He'd been distracted by the rabbit. "I just, um. Yeah, it's just. I was kinda busy. You know, the whole ghost fighting thing, so if you could send me back?" He was had seen these people in Amity before, but they were from out of town. A fact that he had heretofore been grateful for.

"Lord Phantom," started the man wearing the most elaborate robes, "let us give you a sacrifice," Danny barely suppressed a flinch, "for strength." The man motioned two of the other cultists forward. Danny noticed that they were both holding small pet carriers. He floated back, only stopping when he felt the tingle of the summoning circle boundary at his back.

He was pretty sure that he could cross that line if he needed to. Sam and Tucker had put him through a gauntlet of rituals and objects that were traditionally supposed to affect ghosts after the Infini-Map incident. He could avoid almost anything while he was in human form, and could handle a lot of things in ghost form. That was the only thing that was keeping him from freaking out right now. Well. That and the fact that he wasn't quite sure where he was and really, really, needed to get back to Amity Park. Even though he admittedly hadn't been in a ghost fight.

"That won't be necessary," said Danny, raising his hands and pouring more energy into the smile.

"At least let us pledge our service to you, my lord!" exclaimed one of the smaller, more feminine figures. Danny was fairly confident, now that he looked at her, that the robe was _all_ she was wearing.

Danny badly wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

And then, without warning, he was.

"I told you it would work!"

Danny blinked. He had never been happier to see the Casper High auditorium. For that matter, he had never been happier to see the Casper High Phanclub. He had been happier to see Paulina, but that was back when he still had a massive crush on her.

"Ghost boy!" squealed Paulina, pushing past Mikey, who was holding what looked like a small holly bush, and throwing herself at Danny.

"Um. P-Paulina," stammered Danny. He gently extricated himself from her embrace with an apologetic smile. "Um." He ran his hand through his snowy hair. "Hi guys?"

"I can't believe that you really came!" that was Dash.

"Er. Well. Surprise?"

"I knew that ritual would work!" said Mikey, smiling broadly. Then, slowly, the smile slipped from his face. Danny followed Mikey's eyes to the faint spray of blood across his boots and belt. "You weren't in a fight were you?"

"Oh, no! No, I wasn't. Actually, you guys have great timing. I'd been summoned by this weird cult."

"Oh no," said Star, "that must have been awful."

"Yeah. I owe you guys one. Although you probably shouldn't randomly summon me. I _could_ have been in a fight. I know you guys don't want anyone to get hurt."

"But you aren't busy now?" asked Paulina.

"No?"

"Would you mind hanging out with us, then?"

"Not at all."

 **The ending of this one feels a little rushed to me, but I didn't want it to drag on. Is it OK?**


	20. Chapter 20

Day 20: Nightmare

(Danny's nightmares do not always make sense.)

He's walking into the portal now. The deep cut tunnel in the lab wall, and how did his parents get permission for this anyway? The walls are plastered with city permits and contracts and signs. Plasmius's signature stands out on them in glowing ectoplasm pink. He ignores them.

Behind him, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker stand at the mouth of the portal. Waiting. He does not see them, but he knows this. They are carrying cameras. This is a historic moment. He does not see them but he knows this.

He stops. Looks down. There is something burnt there. He can smell it now that he can see it. Something burnt and bleeding. It stains the papers beneath it red and black. It twitches when Danny nudges it with his boot. Moans. Cries like a child. Begs, burnt-out and weeping eyes turned to Danny as it reaches out with blackened, claw-like hands. Almost as if it was alive. But it can't be. That would be too cruel.

Danny turns away.

The papers are gone now. Filed away in a cabinet he can almost see. Waiting. They are carrying cameras. This is a historic moment. He does not see them but he knows this.

He sees the buttons now. He hadn't ever seen them before. Bright red and green. Like Christmas. Like his blood. Like Freakshow's scepter. Like the Ghost Zone. He hates Christmas.

He presses the green button. There is a flash like the lightbulbs of a million cameras. This is a historic moment. He does not see them but he knows this.

(There is no pain, but he remembers. He remembers.)

There is a man standing at the other end of the portal, beyond the green veil. Tall, broad across the shoulders. His hair flickered and glowed and he cast no shadow. Danny flies backwards, pulled towards the Zone.

But he comes out in the lab again. His parents are waiting for him. Knives drawn. The lights above the examination table are on. This is a historic moment.

Jazz is dead. Sam is dead. Tucker is dead. He does not see them but he knows this.

He wakes, breathing heavily. He's covered in sweat and he's kicked off all of his blankets. The green glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling twinkle back at him. The nightmare is already slipping away. He phases his hand through his headboard and pulls out his dream journal and jots down what he can remember in a shaky hand. Jazz makes him keep it. She thinks it helps. Maybe it does. He knows that it's a relief to get them out of his head, but he hates looking back. He puts the book back into the headboard.

He doesn't lay back down. He knows he won't be sleeping again tonight. There is homework waiting for him. That will do.


	21. Chapter 21

Day 21: Battle

Fire licked up Danny's arm and he screamed, inhuman harmonics curling around the edges of his voice. Windows shook. A few broke. Danny bit his tongue and dropped several yards. This was strategic, not involuntary.

He had a clear shot at Aragon's belly, now. It would still be difficult. The scales were softer on the dragon's underside, but not nonexistent, and Danny's left arm was out of commission. He couldn't make it move at all, and he was trying very hard not to look at it.

(Ectoplasm, even Danny's, did not always act like flesh. His arm was dripping, bubbling, melted, singed around the edges like cheese left in a hot pan.)

There wasn't anymore time to think. Danny built a charge of ice up in his right hand, forming it into a long spear. He launched it up at Aragon. The dragon keeled sideways, and the spear pierced one of his wings instead of his stomach.

That was fine, as far as Danny was concerned. Ice would spread from the spear as long as it was stuck in the wing. It was a trick he had learned from Frostbite. Unfortunately, it wouldn't do anything to Aragon's ability to fly. Aragon was a ghost, after all. He didn't need wings to fly any more than Danny did.

It also didn't seem to be doing anything to Aragon's ability to dive after Danny. Danny dropped a few more feet and then jackknifed up and away. He'd been trying to move the battle out of the city since the beginning. There were too many things here that could be broken. Too many people who could be hurt. Out in the countryside, he could use his stronger, more dangerous, powers, like his wail.

The problem was that up until this point, Aragon hadn't been quite angry enough to follow him, instead taking his temper out on Amity Park.

This had changed. Danny had finally wounded him enough to keep his focus.

Danny flew well above the buildings, even though it would have been easier to stay ahead of Aragon if he flew lower, wound around the buildings, used them as obstacles. The goal was to keep Aragon's attention, not loose him.

Then they were out of the city, above the woods. Danny turned, grinning, but his grin faltered as he saw fire burning between Aragon's teeth and he realized that the dry, summery forest was probably not the best place to fight a fire-breathing dragon.

He hastily threw up a shield of ice. When Aragon inhaled again, Danny climbed, circled, so that he was between and above Aragon and the city. Then he wailed, no longer holding back.

Aragon was forced to the ground, knocking down trees and plowing a furrow into the ground. Danny dove, zeroed in on the back of Aragon's neck. The clasp to the amulet, the source of Aragon's transformation, was there. He fumbled at it with his one good hand and some desperation.

(He still hadn't looked at his arm. No time.)

Danny was not going to last if this fight was dragged out much longer. Not with his arm the way it was, not with how much energy he had spent already. The only reason he had beaten Aragon last time was because Dora had helped him. This time, even Sam and Tucker hadn't been able to help much.

It seemed to take forever, but Danny finally got the clasp loose. He yanked the thick chain the rest of the way off and threw it, hard, into the forest. He didn't look to see where it landed. He was already pointing the thermos at Aragon's rapidly shrinking form, the cap held against his body with his elbow. He hit the capture button as soon as Aragon's base, humanoid, form became recognizable, and blue light poured from the thermos, sucking Aragon in.

The only sound left was the wind in the leaves and Danny's (unnecessary) breathing. Danny sat down heavily in the dirt. He shut his eyes. It was time look.

He looked. Blinked. That wasn't so bad. It was just kind of... Melted. He leaned over and threw up, which was somehow even less pleasant in ghost form than it was when he was human. When he was done, he reached for his phone.

Danny's phone was an ancient flip phone. Tucker claimed that it was practically unkillable. So far, the claim had held out. He pressed the speed dial button and held it to hie ear.

"Hey, Jazz. Yeah, I need you to get the ecto-dejecto and the first aid kit... I'll try to get to the day camp. Uh, Newman State Park? Yeah. Um, the green one. Also, I think that might be in shock..."


	22. Chapter 22

Day 22: Vintage

"Are you sure this is alright?" the willowy blonde ghost asked her traveling companion.

"Pretty sure," said the other ghost, brushing back his white hair as he glanced behind him. "I mean, Sidney's been talking about it all week."

"I did not realize that you were so close."

"We're not," said the boy. "But it turns out that even though his mirror got broken, he still kinda haunts my locker... Long story. Anyway, I get shoved in there all the time, and he gets shoved into the sepia version, and they're connected. Low-key natural portal. So we wind up talking. And I know that he at least doesn't have a date, and I know that you like going to dances, so, you know."

"I see," said the blonde ghost, uncertainly, "but what is a locker?"

"Oh, it's, um, like a little cabinet with a lock on it, so you can put your things in it and they can be safe. Schools usually have a bunch of them so that the students don't need to carry everything between classes. You'll probably see some if you do wind up at the dance." The ghost came to a halt, and pointed. "Okay, Dora, there it is."

The dragon princess followed the boy's finger to a large, sepia-toned building. A large number of similarly colored ghosts milled around on, above, and beneath the floating island it rested on. A sign proclaimed it to be Casper High.

"And the dance is really open to anyone?"

"All teen ghosts, as long as they have a date."

Dora frowned. "Are you going, then, Sir Phantom?"

"Nah. I'm dating Sam, remember? And she's still human."

"Can I really ask anyone?"

"That's kinda the point of the Sadie Hawkins Dance. Yeah." He tilted his head. "People who are already taken will say no, though. But don't let that discourage you."

"Hmm," said Dora, drifting closer to the school.

Something began to buzz and jingle, and both ghosts jumped. The boy recovered, put his hand in his pocket, and pulled out his phone. "Heck," he said, looking at the screen. "I'm going to have to go in a bit. Will you be able to find your way back okay?"

"I will be fine, Sir Phantom," said Dora, smiling. "Thank you for telling me about this."

"It's no problem." He floated away slightly. "Are you sure you'll be okay getting back."

Dora was already looking back at the school. "You can go. I'll be fine."

The other ghost zoomed away with a quick "Good luck!" Dora allowed herself a broader smile.

"I finally get to go to a ball."


	23. Chapter 23

**Setting this in the Real HAZMAT AU because reasons. In this AU Danny's HAZMAT suit is an actual type A HAZMAT suit, and Danny has been a bit better at protecting his identity from his enemies overall. (I have borrowed this AU idea from someone else. I just can't remember who it was, at this point. If any of you guys reading this do know, please say something so I can give credit!)**

 **Warning! I know this isn't a completely accurate description of a HAZMAT suit. Chalk any discrepancies up to the Fentons making them especially for dealing with ectoplasm and ghosts.**

Day 23: Wardrobe

Danny stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Blue eyes bored into blue. He ignored the dark circles, and the cuts. He just focused on his eyes. His blue eyes. They flared into green and he shut them tightly.

He could do this. He had to do this. After what had happened, he couldn't not do this. He had to know. He had to see what the other ghost had seen.

His mind skittered back to the fight. _Technus, laughing, trying to take over the computer store yet again. Danny didn't know why he didn't go after something else, like the server farm beneath Axion Labs, but he wasn't about to say anything. He had learned his lesson about giving the tech ghost ideas. The computer store fights were difficult enough, with all the wires and appliances. Laptops could be_ heavy _when thrown with force._

 _Not to mention, Technus was convinced that Danny was a rival scientist out to steal his ideas. Something about the 'HAZMAT suit clearly indicates that you died conducting an ill-advised experiment!' Not wrong, exactly, but the fact that Technus always followed up with 'Using ideas stolen from your intellectual superiors!' grated on him._

 _(A part of him wondered, as it did with all ghosts except Vlad, Skulker, and Spectra, how Technus would react to him being a a fourteen, now fifteen, year old half-ghost. Not that he intended to find out.)_

 _This time was different, though. In between the typical maniacal laughter and ranting, Technus seemed to be... arguing with someone?_

 _"All I wanted was for you to fix my keyboard!"_

 _"And so your keyboard shall be fixed, user of hip! It shall be sweet and funky fresh! And it shall be able to fire burning rays of doom!"_

 _"I am not a hipster! And I live in a library! I don't want burning rays of anything!"_

 _Was that Ghost Writer? It sure sounded like it. Hopefully, without his keyboard, Ghost Writer wouldn't have that awful rhyming power. Fighting him last Christmas had been beyond surreal, and he was pretty sure that Ghost Writer had almost figured out that he was half-ghost._

 _Danny phased out of the grip of the latest batch of animate, electricity-spitting cords, and leaped towards the voices. The only way to really end this was to take out Technus himself._

 _He landed just a few feet away, said something about how_ shocking _it was to see Ghost Writer and Technus together, and then threw a bolt of ectoplasm at the older of the two ghosts. The fight quickly devolved into a three way melee, with Technus and Ghost Writer still arguing over the keyboard._

 _Danny's suit got torn up, as it always did, but with the other two ghosts fighting one another, the battle went quicker than it normally did. He got Technus into the thermos, and relaxed. This was a mistake._

 _Something that Technus had been levitating dropped from the vicinity of the ceiling and hit him in the head, knocking loose the faceplate and mask of his HAZMAT suit so that the goggles slipped awkwardly over Danny's eyes. Danny hissed, and tried to right them; Ghost Writer was still around, after all, and, keyboard or not, he was still a ghost._

 _He was hit. It was far from the worst hit that Danny had ever taken, mostly because Ghost Writer had aimed poorly, and had struck the edge of the HAZMAT suit's faceplate instead of Danny's actual face. The faceplate skidded across the store floor and began to sublimate into ectoplasmic mist. Danny got a shield up before Ghost Writer could smack him again, and got his mask straightened so that he could see again._

 _But at that point, Ghost Writer had apparently decided that he couldn't take Danny on in a straight up fight, and had taken cover somewhere in the computer store. Danny groaned._

 _"Come on, Ghost Writer," said Danny, "I know you only came here to get your keyboard fixed or whatever. I'm sure that you just want to go home. So if you'll come on ou-" and that's when Ghost Writer attempted to strangle Danny with his scarf._

 _It was a kind of stupid idea. Beyond the fact that Danny was a ghost, and didn't really need to breathe, he was wearing a rather large amount of protective gear that included a stiff collar around his neck and a gas mask. He said as much during the ensuing undignified tussle._

 _This did not stop Danny's mask from coming off when Ghost Writer's scarf got caught on it._

 _Danny said something that was probably blasphemous under his breath (his voice sounded so strange without being filtered through the gas mask) and covered his face with his hands before blinking out of the visible spectrum. Ghost Writer just froze, staring, eyes wide and more than a little horrified. Then he ran. Well. Flew._

 _Danny was in no mood to follow him, but he did. All the way to the natural portal that he and Technus had presumably come from._

Now Danny was here, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

The truth was that he had no idea what he looked like in ghost form.

Oh, he had glimpsed himself in mirrors while he was in ghost form, and the press certainly took pictures, but never without the HAZMAT suit. Never without the mask, with its bulky breathing apparatus and thick goggles. Rarely without the outer hood and faceplate, although those both got knocked off often enough in battle.

But under that? He had never looked. Honestly, he was scared to look. After all, he couldn't be _human_ under there. He couldn't look at all like he really did. Like he did when he was human. Not with the way the goggle shone beneath the faceplate, two pools of light that swirled like the portal. Not with the way stark white strands of hair would sometimes peek from beneath the inner hood, showing clearly against the hoods dark fabric. Not with the way all the colors of the suit itself had inverted. Not with the way he could feel his teeth grown sharp in his mouth. Not with the way he had _burned_ in the portal.

He was afraid that he'd find a monster under there.

It hadn't always been like that. At first it had just been that taking it off would be a chore. The suit had taken forever to put on before the accident in the first place, after all. Then with all the ghost attacks, and his parents and other hunters coming into the picture as antagonists, he'd been worried that he'd be recognized, somehow. That his family and friends would be in danger. Besides that, it had never been a pressing matter to find out. He simply hadn't worried about it. Hadn't cared.

Then he met Vlad. Vlad, with his pointed, animal teeth, his clawed hands, his sunken, pitted, blue skin, his sharply pointed ears, his hungry, flat, red eyes. Vlad was terrifying, for all of Danny's bravado during their fights.

Then he met Spectra. Spectra had picked the scabs off of all his existing fears and insecurities, and had even generated a few brand new ones.

(Then he met Dan.)

So he had never looked. Had never taken off the HAZMAT suit. But he had to look now. He had to know.

Whatever it was that he looked like had made Ghost Writer run.

Danny changed, the brilliant white rings of his transformation springing into existence around his waist and passing over him, covering him in glowing black and white fabric. The hood, faceplate, and mask were back in place. Just like every time he transformed, the suit was as good as new.

He worked on the boots and gloves first. The edges were taped to the suit's outer layer, so that the suit was air tight. His parents had been really serious about ectocontamination back then. He dropped the discarded items in the tub, so that the ectoplasm could sublimate without hurting anything. Then he peeled off the outer layer. The tape made loud, sticky, tearing sounds as he pulled it off, and he was glad that no one was home yet this afternoon, otherwise they would definitely hear him.

After that, he disconnected the air supply and secondary filter from the mask. He never really needed those, but the gas mask was really just a gas mask now. Then he went about the business of removing the second layer of the suit. The weird little foot booties and their tape came off first, then the second, thinner, pair of gloves, then he was peeling the tape off of his wrists and ankles.

He paused then, looking in the mirror. Green stared back at him from behind the goggles. Resolutely, Danny pulled back the inner hood. The hair beneath it was white, though not quite as stark as Danny had originally thought. It had silvery highlights. He ran a still-gloved hand through it, just avoiding the mask's straps, and tilted his head. It looked mostly like normal hair. Old man hair, sure... It didn't quite seem to follow the laws of gravity, and Danny knew there wasn't a draft in the bathroom, so it really shouldn't be moving like that. Still, it wasn't made of fire or anything like that, so Danny counted it as a win.

He struggled out of the remainder of the second layer and its associated accouterments, leaving only the inner, spandex garment and the mask. He examined the inner layer closely, stalling. He had rarely seen it, in the past year. White gloves up to his elbows, white boots with grippy bottoms up to his knee, white collar, white utility belt (and how did his parents think that he was going to get to the belt through the other two layers of the suit, exactly?). He amused himself playing with the little tools in the belt pouches for a little while. He had forgotten about those entirely. Some of them might be useful in the future. He noticed, too, how much sharper his hearing was without two layers of fabric between his ears and everything else.

But he had to move on eventually. He sighed, the sound made strange by both the mask and his ghostly acoustics. Now, he could either unzip the spandex inner layer, or bite the bullet and take off the mask.

His hand rose to the zipper in the collar, but...

( _He could remember the portal, the brilliant flash, lightning rooting him, an icy spear, a universe exploding just beneath his heart. HoT and COld and dyiNg and pAin-_ )

Mask it was, then. He shut his eyes and fumbled at the straps. It seemed to take forever to undo the clips, far longer than it should have, but, finally, it slipped off.

Danny squared his shoulders and breathed in deeply (unnecessarily). This was it.

He opened his eyes.

It took him a few seconds to process what it was that his eyes were seeing, but once he did he had to laugh. This... _This..._ was what he had been afraid of?

One of the side effects of not having to breathe as a ghost meant that he didn't need to stop laughing until he was good and done. Still, when he had finally uncurled himself from his laughter-induced ball and met his eyes in the mirror once more, the sight sent him into another fit of giggles.

It was just that he couldn't believe that he had built this whole thing up in his mind, only for it to come down to this: he looked like himself.

Well, he supposed that he would have looked like himself no matter what he had looked like, but that was the best way to describe his appearance. Human to an almost unsettling degree. Subtract the ghostly glow and the weird hair color, and Danny probably could pass as a normal human. Heck, considering 'Gregor' Danny could probably swing it even with the white hair.

Not that he looked _entirely_ human. Under the glow, his skin had a slightly greenish tint. It was also a good deal... tanner?... than he was as a human. His ears were tapered ever so slightly, the green hue more obvious in their tips. His teeth were- he bared them- very white. Way too white, actually. As white as his hair. And his canines were pointed, but not as long as he had thought when exploring them with his tongue. Weirdly, his eyebrows and eyelashes were still black. He wasn't sure how that worked, what with the rest of his hair being white.

But it was probably the eyes that gave him the most relief. Yes, they glowed and swirled with emerald, viridian, lime, and a thousand other shades of green. They were definitely and undeniably a ghost's eyes. But, they had pupil and sclera, and clearly defined boundaries. They were _Danny's_ eyes. Recognizable. Not the eyes of a stranger. (Or a monster.)

Danny was about to float back, examine himself from a different angle, when something that caught his eye made him lean in again. Was that a cut? A bruise? No, as often as he got those, he would still notice one on his face, especially given that it was shaped... so...

Wait.

He touched the mark. It didn't hurt. He licked his lips and grabbed the tag of the zipper, yanking it down violently. He squirmed out of the last layer of the HAZMAT suit, discarding gloves, spandex, and boots, leaving himself with only underwear, and shot a glare at the mirror.

Ancients, he was covered in scars.

Most of them he recognized, they had faint doubles on his human skin. Some of them he could even identify by date. Or, if not by date, then by fight. If not by fight, then by weapon, or ghost power.

One of them though, Danny had never seen.

It was huge, starting as a starburst mark on the palm of his left hand, winding, branching, up his arm to split at his shoulder. One branch licked up his cheek. Another lay across his chest, intersecting another, larger, starburst pattern just below his heart, and met the third branch, the one that had, apparently, gone across his back, at his right hip. The whole thing then wound down his leg, to his foot. Danny bent his leg, staring down at the sole of his foot. There was another starburst there, on the ball of his foot.

(Danny knew what this was from.)

(Danny knew now that his skin wasn't _tan,_ it was _burnt._ )

Well. That was horrifying.

But, he _had_ seen worse. Way worse. Lichtenberg figures were actually kind of pretty. This one was kind of aesthetically pleasing, too, as long as Danny didn't think too hard about the fact that it was burnt into his skin... Yeah. Okay. That's enough of that.

Danny flashed back to human, pleased by how little he changed. He glanced at his left arm, and let himself scoff when he found no scar there.

He was about to leave the bathroom, feeling lighter than he had in a long time, when he froze, remembering why he had done this in the first place. He turned slowly back to the mirror.

By ghost standards, heck, by Amity Park standards, Phantom _sans_ HAZMAT was Not Scary. Appearance-wise, anyway. Ghost Writer was _way_ scarier looking, what with the whole hipster-vampire thing he had going on.

So why had Ghost Writer run?


	24. Chapter 24

**This is a follow-up to Day 23: Wardrobe, set in the same AU.**

Day 24: AU/Paparazzi

"You're probably going to mock me for being cliched," said Jazz, "but how did it make you feel?"

"Dunno," mumbled Danny. He was sitting on the floor of Jazz's room, doodling in a notebook. "Relived mostly, I guess. Until I remembered that Ghost Writer had run off when he saw me. So. Yeah. Mostly just confused, now." He paused for a moment. "You aren't going to ask me to lie down on your couch, are you? Or ask me about my relationship with my parents? 'Cause-" Danny let Jazz hit him with a pillow.

"Please," said Jazz. "I know that you know that most of Freud's theories have been either rendered obsolete, or entirely revamped."

"But do I know that you know that I know that?"

"Now you do," said Jazz. "But, anyway. I can't really think of any reason for him to leave so suddenly either. Unless he thought that you had his keyboard or something, and then realized you didn't? No that doesn't make sense. Maybe it's something you can't see, then? Maybe you can show-"

"Jazz," interrupted Danny, before his sister could ask him to show her what Phantom looked like under the mask, "that's really not what I wanted to talk about."

"It wasn't?"

"No. Remember, I wanted to know if you had any ideas about why the ghosts were acting so weird lately."

"Oh. Yeah. How did we get to-?"

"You asked me when the last actual fight I had was, and what happened." Danny paused, considering. "I didn't count the Box Ghost. He's acting weird too, though. He stopped picking fights... two days ago, I think. Now he just kind of darts away like the rest of them." He sighed heavily. "Then we do this _thing_ where they're hiding from me but also watching me. It's like they all turned into stalkers overnight!"

"But they aren't fighting you, right? That's a good thing?"

"It would be, but I can't exactly turn back while they're watching me, Jazz. If they'd just talk to me-! I don't know. I was kind of hoping that you'd have an idea about why they were acting like this."

"I have a thought," said Jazz hesitantly, "but it's kind of silly."

"Better than what I have."

"It's possible that they're trying to see you."

"See me what?"

"No, no, to see _you._ I know that you said that you looked normal, but maybe there was something to your appearance that ghosts would find strange, and Ghost Writer spread the word?" Noticing Danny's rather haunted look, Jazz waved her hands. "It's just a thought. Like I said, silly. I'm probably wrong."

"I hope so," said Danny. But Jazz was rarely wrong. Danny was about to say more, but his ghost sense went off and he sighed heavily. "Ugh. Maybe you can watch and use your psychology powers to figure out what their problem is."

Jazz smirked. "I'll do my best."

Danny transformed into Phantom in a flash of light and flew up through the ceiling, giving Jazz a little wave before flickering out of visibility. He avoided flying through the Ops Center, too many things that could hurt him in there. Once he was high enough to have a relatively clear view, Danny began to rotate, scanning his surroundings. The ghost couldn't be too far away if it had set off his ghost sense. Nothing there... Or there... Nothing in that alleyway... There. It was the Box Ghost, hanging in clear view above the houses a couple blocks away.

Well. That wasn't suspicious at all.

Despite everything, Boxy wasn't the type to just hover. Even when he was flying in clear view (as opposed to terrorizing a warehouse or whatever), he tended to also be screaming about how he was 'THE MOST TERRIFYING BOX GHOST!'

Floating quietly? Not his thing.

Danny looked around one more time. He didn't _see_ anyone else. Which didn't really mean anything. He was dealing with ghosts, after all. After a bit of thought, Danny poured more power into his invisibility. Most ghosts wouldn't be able to see him now.

He was still cautious when he approached the Box Ghost, coming at him from behind. It was a little underhanded, Danny supposed. He usually fought Boxy straight on. He wasn't entirely sure why. It just felt mean to not give Boxy at least that much respect.

He was almost close enough to hold a conversation with the Box Ghost, and was actually thinking about starting one, when there was a bright flash of light and Danny recoiled. That was _way_ too bright, even through his goggles.

"There he is!"

"Way to go Flash Pan!"

"Get him!"

"Be gentle!"

"Come on, you know that Ghost Writer is just pulling our tails."

"I, THE BOX GHOST, HAVE ACCOMPLISHED MY TASK!"

Danny only recognized about half those voices (Flash Pan? Was that a _photography themed_ ghost? Really? _Really?_ ), and decided that, blind or not, now was the time to be somewhere else. Especially when his ghost sense went into overdrive (that always felt weird when it got caught in the gas mask). He went into 'move the fight out of town' mode, putting as much energy into intangibility and speed as possible. After all, they could apparently see him now, no point in wasting power on invisibility.

Something (A hand?) wrapped around his ankle, and pulled him back. He called up a shield and _pushed._ Whatever it was let go. His vision was coming back now, and he was disappointed, but not particularly surprised, to see most of his enemies. Ember, Bullet, Lunch Lady, Technus, Desiree, Amorpho, Kitty, Johnny 13... Was that Dora? And Sidney? What were they doing here?

Wait... Where was Shadow?

Danny got his answer a moment latter when the ghost dropped on him from above. The other ghosts lunged, moving as if they were a single entity, and Danny was buried. He kicked and punched and threw ectoplasm, and screamed.

Danny had no idea what was going on. At least, he had no idea what was going on until they started trying to pull off the suit.

"How does this come off, anyway," demanded Ember.

"You get off!" said Danny, angrily. Someone managed to pull his boot off, twisting his foot in the process. "Hey!"

"This is taking too long," complained another ghost.

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not cooperating with your attempt to strip me!"

"Just go for the helmet!" said Johnny.

The other ghosts seemed to think that it was a good idea.

"Be careful!" said one of them, yelling above the noise. "If Ghost Writer is right-!"

Danny could only do so much against so many, especially in the middle of the city. They got off the hood and mask...

And froze, staring. Just like Ghost Writer. Danny stared back at them. This was beyond unsettling. He couldn't... What could possibly be wrong with him that they were staring at him like that? He wanted to flicker in to invisibility, but the ghost with the antique took another photo, and he found that he couldn't.

The flash, though, seemed to break whatever spell the ghosts were under. About half of them started to scold the photographer, the rest...

"Oh my goodness, you're so young," said the Lunch Lady. Danny flinched.

"What?"

"Jeez, you're like, twelve," said Kitty.

"Dude..."

"I don't-"

"I can't believe that I beat up a twelve year old!"

"I'm so sorry, if I had any idea, I would never have fought you!"

"... cute..."

Thirty feet below, the people of Amity Park were aiming phone cameras up at the ghosts, filming the entire incident.


	25. Chapter 25

**This is a continuation of Electricity, Surge, and Flowers. To get what's going on you're probably going to have to read those. Thank you all for reading this far!**

Day 25: Cold

"Danny, you're freezing," said Sam.

"I know," said Danny, miserably. They were sitting next to each other on the bus on the way to school.

Tucker wasn't there. Yesterday, Tucker had given himself electrical burns trying to charge batteries with his new-found electrical powers, and his parents had decided, considering that it was the third time he had done so, that he should talk to a therapist. Danny didn't think that a therapist would do Tucker much good. Even ignoring the whole superpowers thing, after Spectra, no one in Casper High really trusted therapists.

"And you sound horrible." She frowned, suspicion blooming in her eyes. "Are you sick?" she demanded.

"Sam," groaned Danny.

"Danny, you shouldn't be at school if you're sick."

"I can't miss any more classes. I don't want to have to repeat a year."

"Danny..."

"Sam..."

"Ugh. Fine. Just promise me that you won't be running off to fight while you're sick," she whispered the last part. No need to advertise why Danny was always running out of class.

"You know I can't make promises like that."

*** LINE ***

"I think you've given me your cold," complained Sam in third period.

"I doubt it," said Danny. "I caught it from Klemper. It's a ghost cold."

"Yeah, well, it turned out your ghost weirdness is contagious, too, Danny."

Danny was silent for a moment. "Heck, I forgot. How are you feeling?"

"Like crap."

"Maybe you could call home?"

"And have my parents pick me up? Pass."

"Any, you know, weirdness?"

"No. But is it just me or is it really cold in here?"

"Cold? It's too hot, if anything. Then again, I'm apparently doing a pretty good imitation of an ice cube right now, so..."

"Jeez, I w- It would be better if Tucker were here."

"He'd probably be sick too, though. Good catch with the w-word thing by th-"

"Mr Fenton and Ms Manson, if you could please follow along with the rest of the class."

*** LINE ***

"Ah, heck," said Danny.

"What, did you freeze your milk solid?"

"Uh. You might have a bigger problem. Don't panic."

"Wow, those are the wrong words."

"Seriously. Look up, don't panic."

Sam looked up slowly. They were sitting outside, under a tree, like they normally did. But wasn't that tree normally smaller?

"Oh, heck."

"Yeah. Forget getting held back, we need to get out of here."

*** LINE ***

There were many abandoned houses in and around Amity Park. Some people just couldn't deal with the ghosts. Danny, Sam, and Tucker used some of them as safe places hide. Especially the ones that people thought were haunted. They were at one right now, in the attic, the only one of the rooms that still had furniture.

"So we're agreed that whatever this is, it's messing with our powers."

"Yeah. But only, like, um." Danny waved his hand in the air, disturbing dust particles and leaving a trail of snow. "Only the specialized ones. My phasing and stuff is fine. It's just my ice that's acting up right now."

"Yeah," said Sam. She looked at Danny. He was lying on a sheet covered couch, and, in that moment, he looked much more comfortable than she was in her beaten up armchair. She stood. "Move over," she demanded.

"Okay," said Danny, scooting over, leaving her about half the couch. "I'm gonna text Jazz and ask her to pick us up. I think maybe we should try going to Frostbite?"

"That sounds like a good idea. Maybe call Tucker, too."

"Yeah, he might be sick, too," agreed Danny. He leaned into Sam. "You're really warm," he muttered.

"And you're still freezing."

Neither of them moved. Sam closed her eyes.

"Hey, look," said Danny a few minutes later.

"What?" groaned Sam.

"Seriously, look." He sounded so enchanted that Sam finally did open her eyes. She followed Danny's gaze to the floor. It was covered in ice. But the ice wasn't just ice. It was shaped like flowers, and not just any flowers, but Sam's favorites specifically.

"Did you do this?"

"Not on purpose," said Danny. She glanced over. He looked just as flushed and dazed as she felt. "I think that it's our powers interacting."

"Maybe we should move, then."

"Maybe," agreed Danny. "Before we freeze ourselves in."

Neither of them moved until Jazz came to pick them up.


	26. Chapter 26

Day 26: Imprisoned

The 'room' was made of bare stone that glowed ever-so-slightly green. The floor was about four feet by four feet. The ceiling was six feet up, but felt lower. There were no windows. Neither were there any doors. The only good thing about it was that it was scrupulously clean. Although, that was because the stones apparently drank blood.

Danny was curled into a corner, wedged into it as tightly as possible, not moving, not breathing. Breathing offended his captors. Then again, everything about Danny offended his captors. Especially the more human parts of him. After the last time they had 'corrected' him, Danny had tried his hardest to do nothing. To remain as perfectly still and inoffensive as possible. To not even let his green eyes blink. To not even think, because when he fell too deeply into his thoughts, he tended to forget that he wasn't supposed to move.

Danny wanted very badly to go home, but at this point he would settle for somewhere he knew, with someone he knew. He'd take Walker's prison over this. Walker's Rules might be beyond obsessive and edging into impossible to follow, but at least they were understandable. At least Walker treated him like a person. For that matter, he'd take Skulker and his island over this. Skulker might always be literally trying to kill him, but they had this weird mutual respect thing going on.

Something screamed horribly elsewhere in the building, and Danny suppressed a flinch. Nothing should make that kind of noise. Nothing should sound so lonely, so hurt, so scared. He wondered if Jazz would say that he was projecting.

At that thought, Danny did flinch. He had been trying very hard not to think of his family and friends. But now that they had crossed his mind, he couldn't stop. Did they know he was missing? Were they looking for him? Were they able to handle all the ghosts? There were so many who came through on a regular basis, even though only a fraction of them were properly sentient. He wasn't too worried about his parents. They rarely showed up to ghost fights on time. But Sam and Tucker? Jazz? What if they got hurt? And... what about Vlad? Would he take this opportunity to actually kill Jack?

Maybe his parents were in more danger than he had first thought. Even if they were all fine (please, please let them be fine) what about the rest of Amity? It wasn't an exaggeration for Danny to say that he saved lives daily. Even on those rare days when there wasn't a ghost attack, he often pulled people out of car wrecks, or burning buildings. If someone was hurt (or worse) because he wasn't there, he would never be able to forgive himself.

But he couldn't escape. He had tried. The little room was phase-proof, both to his ghost form, and his human form, blast-proof, freeze-proof, even scream-proof, and the things that they had done to him when he tried to escape...

He was distracted by the taste of something salty in his mouth, and he blinked, despite telling himself that that was one of the things that he _wasn't_ going to do. Had he bitten through his lip or something? No, ectoplasm had more flavor than that. So what..? He caught sight of a few translucent, faintly luminous droplets on his folded arms, and he raised a shaking hand to his face. It was wet. He was crying.

Oh no. No, this couldn't be happening. If he was crying, then-

As if on cue, a ghost phased through the wall. (Danny had no idea how they did that, he had tried and tried and tried, and he hadn't been able to get through at all). The ghost wasn't tall, but it still towered over Danny, who tried futilely to avoid the ghost's grasp. The ghost had green skin, one huge, staring bloodshot eyes, and no neck to speak of. It's clothes looked flamboyant, white and gold robes, black and red cape, high collar, jewelry, but Danny had seen so many of the ghost's fellows that he knew that this was just a kind of uniform.

Despite Danny's best efforts, the ghost's clawed hand buried itself in his hair, and the ghost, who still had not deigned to speak to Danny, pulled him through the wall. Danny struggled. Despite the pain he knew was waiting for him, pain he knew would only be worse if he fought, he also knew that this would be his best, possibly only, chance to escape for quite some time. But Danny was still weak from the last time they had done this; the ghost barely even noticed, and when it did, it's response was to shock Danny and simply drag him down the hall.

When Danny regained enough control of his limbs to stumble along behind the ghost once more, he no longer fought.

(If there had been someone to fight for, someone else, he would never have stopped. But he was alone. He was hurt. He was scared. The only one to protect was himself, and he was doing a very poor job of that.)

The ghost stopped abruptly, and Danny tripped over himself, falling hard on the floor in an attempt not to crash into the ghost. He tried to look up, see what had caused the ghost to stop so soon, but the ghost's grip on his hair tightened painfully, and forced his gaze to the floor. Was that _ticking_ that Danny could overhear?

"What do you think you're doing here?" the ghost demanded in a deep, echoing voice. So the ghost was male. Probably.

"I could ask the same thing."

Danny gasped, earning him a shake from the irate ghost. He knew that voice. But it couldn't be Clockwork, could it?

"It is none of your business. Now get out of my way."

"The Council of Observants made it my business."

"We told you to take care of him," sneered the Observant. "You didn't."

"I fully intend to take care of him," said Clockwork, coldly. His tail drifted into Danny's field of vision. There was no doubt as to his identity now. "You told me that I was responsible for him. When referring to a child ghost, that only means one thing."

"He's not a ghost, he's an abomination."

"He is a child." Clockwork's voice had become low and threatening. "Release him."

"May I remind you who you are speaking to?" asked the Observant in a poisonous tone. "We own you, for all your pretension. Get out of my way, and take your ludicrous demands with you."

"No."

Danny felt the tingle of energized ectoplasm fill the air and realized, with horror, that the Observant was going to shoot Clockwork. He was going to hurt Clockwork, who had come to help Danny, and it was all Danny's fault for not being stronger, for not getting away by himself, for getting captured in the first place, never mind that he had been alone against dozens of older ghosts.

(So much of Danny could be traced to that last moment of lucidity in the portal, when he had thought, with relief, _At least I'm the only one being hurt. No one else has to feel this._ So much of what he was could be traced to the minutes directly after that, when he could no longer remember if he was alone in his suffering, could no longer tell if the screams he heard belonged only to him.)

With the last of his strength and all of his weight, Danny threw himself against the Observant, hoping to throw off his aim, not caring about the hair ripped from his scalp. Not noticing the way the Observant's other hand, glowing almost white with gathered ectoplasm, turned towards him as the Observant stumbled.

Danny knew agony, and then nothing else.

 **This wound up being a bit of a cliff hanger, didn't it? I know I did something kind of similar for Day 4: Eclipse, but I'm apparently trash for stories where Clockwork is protective of Danny. I'm going to try to write a continuation of this for the Free Day. Thank you for reading!**


	27. Chapter 27

Day 27: Exposed

Danny had never before felt so exposed in his life. Or afterlife. Whatever. Considering that he had once been shown naked to his entire school, courtesy of Vlad's ghost vulture minions, this was an accomplishment.

It had been bad enough over the long weekend, with only the fear of his parents recognizing him and the 180* change in attitude from most of the ghosts.

Not that the ghosts stopped attacking Amity; it was just that when he showed up to stop them, they thought it was cute. Several of the older ghosts had announced their decision to collectively adopt Danny. The Lunch Lady kept showing up to give him food. Technus wanted to show him how to hack things and possess technology. Ghost Writer had decided that he needed tutoring in English. Walker had dropped his charges and sent Danny a copy of the Rules. The list went on. Danny had thought that Vlad had been bad. The positive attention was nice, though, and the only wounds worth mentioning that he had gotten this weekend were the twisted ankle, and a bite from a non-sapient snake ghost.

The fact remained, however, that his face had been in the newspaper- on the front page!- for the past two days. When he hadn't even shown it to his sister.

He walked into the school with a feeling of trepidation. Sam came up alongside him almost immediately.

"Don't freak out," she said. Wow, that was not an auspicious start to the day. "But the A-list got here early, and, well."

"Well what?" snapped Danny.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't sleep well last night. I didn't mean to snap. What happened?"

"They kind of plastered Phantom's face all over the cafeteria. And some of the halls."

"Oh my god," moaned Danny. " _Why?_ Why would they do that?"

"I don't know. Ask Tucker when he gets back."

"Back from what?"

"Back from asking the geeks why. Apparently the A-listers had them enhance the photos?"

"Oh god. They're going to recognize me."

"They haven't recognized you yet."

"I haven't walked by a giant photo of myself yet." Danny spun his locker open, and riffled through his books. He couldn't even remember what classes he had today.

On the other side of the hall, Star and Paulina walked up to their lockers.

"He's, like, so cute!" said Paulina.

"I know right?" agreed Star.

"Those eyes, though!"

"Just, like, fantasy green! Soooo dreamy."

Were they talking about him? Or, more precisely, Phantom. They thought he was cute? But hadn't they told him that he looked like a cross between a garden gnome, a preschooler, and a rat when he had finally gotten the courage to ask Paulina out?

"And, he's like, a superhero, so like, bonus!"

"Didn't he save you that one time, too?"

I know right? He's like my knight in shining armor! My ghost boy."

That was nice, actually. And it was pretty clear that they hadn't recognized him at all. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

But Paulina was still going on. "-just so sweet. I want to take him home!"

"Uh huh, and, like-"

"No! More than take him home! I want to marry him, and I want him to kiss me with that cute little face of his, oh my god!"

Okay. That was a bit extreme.

"I bet that he's already fallen for me, after all he was stuttering when he saved me."

That was a bit closer to true than Danny would have liked. Or at least, it used to be. After rejection, escalating bullying, and emotional blackmail, Danny no longer particularly attracted to Paulina. It was too bad, really. He still remembered how they'd been friends in grammar school.

"And I want him to tell me-" At this point Paulina leaned over to whisper into Star's ear.

Danny, having supernaturally sharp ears, heard every word.

"Hey, Danny, are you alright? You look like you've seen, I don't know, Lancer in a speedo, or something."

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Why's Danny going to be sick?"

Danny looked up at Tucker, who had just arrived. "Remind me never to ever be alone with Paulina. Ever."

"Uh, sure."

"Like, especially if I'm in ghost form."

Sam glanced over at where the two girls were still talking. "Why? Is she secretly a hater? Didn't you save her that one time?"

"She's not a hater. That's part of the problem. Oh my _god."_

Sam pulled Danny away from his locker, shoving books into his hands. Apparently he had English this morning, and math. Yay.

"Tucker," said Sam, still leading Danny by the wrist, "what did you find out?"

"Oh, um, they're making some kind of Phantom fan club thing."

"I thought I already had a fan club," muttered Danny.

"Yeah, but only the nerds were in it, 'cause everyone thought that you were some weird old guy. Now that they know what you look like, it's cool."

"Why?"

"How'm I supposed to know? But I don't think anyone will recognize you, if that's what you're worried about."

"Huh?"

"If they haven't put the pieces together by now, they never will. The whole dead/alive, cool/uncool, wimp/superhero thing. You're like Clark Kent. Also, the fact that Phantom glows seriously screws up the shadows on his face. The way the computer club 'enhanced' those photos made you look like a young Tom Cruise."

That was weirdly disappointing. Maybe part of his brain was still appreciative of the way Paulina had said that he was cute. Even if what came next was horrifying.

"Yeah, you don't look anything like Tom Cruise."

"Gee, thanks, Sam."

Sam leaned close, and, with a wicked grin, said, "You're _way_ cuter."

Danny blushed furiously.

"Lovebirds~!" sang Tucker.

"Give it a rest, Tucker," said Danny. He looked over at Sam when she didn't say anything. "Are you okay, Sam?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just glad you're not letting this fame go to your head."

"I don't want fame." They were in Lancer's English classroom now. He dropped his books and backpack on his desk and started to sit down.

"Excuse me, Mr Fenton? Can I have a word with you in my office?"

Danny groaned. Please, let this not be a detention on top of everything else. "Yes, Mr Lancer," he said, trying to keep his lack of enthusiasm from his voice. He pushed himself back up out of his chair, and followed the English teacher to the back of the classroom.

Mr Lancer's office was a glorified closet with a small desk crammed in. It even had closet shelving. Mr Lancer squeezed around the desk and sat down, giving Danny just enough room to follow him in.

"Please shut the door, Mr Fenton."

Danny looked at him askance. Lancer never closed this door. Closing the door cut off all the air flow to the room. But he complied. No need to get into more trouble. Not that he knew what this was about.

Then he turned around and faced Mr Lancer expectantly.

"What did you want to talk to me abou..." Danny faltered, looking at the teacher more closely. Lancer looked _terrible._ There were dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was waxy. His hands, though held clasped, were shaking. It looked like he might have skipped a couple days of shaving, too. "Mr Lancer? Are you alright?"

"I..." the teacher trailed off, his eyes searching Danny's face. Finally, he seemed to steel himself, and looked Danny straight in the eyes. "Mr Fenton, I want to talk to you about your extracurricular activities."


	28. Chapter 28

Day 28: Animals

Most humans of Amity Park did not appreciate what Danny did for them.

(The animals were another story.)

*** LINE ***

Amity Park had long sat on a thin spot between the worlds. It had claimed the title of Most Haunted City in America (!) long before the Fentons had even conceived of their portal. No one could say why, exactly, this was. A few historians had tried over the years to track down the original Native American inhabitants, only to find none. The closest tribe had thought the land cursed. If it had been possible to go back farther, one would find a hundred different beliefs about the land Amity Park now sat on. Some had thought it sacred, or magic, or cursed, or dangerous, or merely obscenely unlucky.

This had, as one might expect, some interesting side effects, even beyond all the natural portals and strange physics. The creatures that lurked in Lake-Eerie-with-two-Es were a prime example.

But there were other more subtle, effects.

Anyone who moved into Amity with a dog or a cat could tell you that, once in Amity, their pets just seemed so much happier. More alive. More intelligent. Easier to train.

No one in Amity had much trouble with rats. Mice, yes, they had issues with mice, but not with rats. The rats knew very well to keep to themselves.

The zookeepers noticed things, too. Animals would on occasion escape from their cages only to return, days later, looking smug; or to show up in another part of the zoo, playing with a creature that ought to have killed it.

So it was. Cats, dogs, foxes, ravens, crows, parrots, bats, gorillas, rats and owls were affected. Pigeons, gulls, starlings, cows, sheep, horses, ponies, moles, mice, lizards, and fish were not. An attentive observer might have noticed that the animals that were affected were already either fairly intelligent, or closely associated with death. It was a lucky thing that there were no such attentive observers in Amity Park.

Or perhaps it wasn't luck, exactly. The effects were small. A cat may become a very smart cat, but that is all it would be. It would never reach the level of a human.

Then Danny opened the portal, and all of that changed.

*** LINE ***

Danny was at the park, taking advantage of the good weather to do his homework outside, when the dog, a lab, ran up to him. This was not an unusual occurrence. Ever since the accident, animals (the ones that weren't rabid ghosts, anyway) seemed to love him. This was fine. Danny loved them back.

He played with the dog for a while, throwing sticks, giving pets, playing chase, but he eventually had to get back to his homework. The dog laid down next to him. Watching. Danny worked on his homework. He was actually making pretty good progress. Then the dog put his paw on Danny's hand, whining. Danny looked at him, tracked the dog's gaze, did a slight double take, then frowned.

He was bleeding through his shirt again. He sighed, heavily. "Don't worry, boy," said Danny, giving a dog a scratch behind the ears. He tied his sweater around his waist. Hopefully that would keep people from seeing the blood. He stood up. He had to go get his bandages redone. "This happens all the time," he continued reassuring the dog, "I'm used to it. Stupid Guys in White," he muttered under his breath. Then, more brightly, "It's probably time for you to go home, too. Your people are probably looking for you."

*** LINE ***

The council of cats met on the night of the full moon, at midnight, at the zoo. No one wanted to leave out the tigers. Or the lions, for that matter.

A black cat who went by the unassuming name of Inky was in charge that night. Inky had lived a long, active, life. Death had changed her little. There was, perhaps, an extra shine to her green eyes, and her flesh was icy now that it lacked that vital component, but she was, otherwise, little changed. The only one that truly noticed was the Door Opener, the Boy Who Was Not A Boy, and he still smiled at her, and gave her and her kittens treats and pets when they wound around his legs.

Others were, perhaps, not so lucky. Snowball, a cat who had been white in life, was now a lurid green. She could not go out in the city, lest she be chased by ghost hunters. Another leader, a tabby, was still alive, but felt the ache of his years and the fear of death in every flick of his tail. Not every cat could hope to return.

-Then we are in agreement?- asked Inky.

Despite the old adage about herding cats, the response was unanimous. Inky blinked slowly, and looked upwards.

Above, three crows, two ravens and an owl perched on a decorative iron arch.

-Tell the others,- said Inky. -We shall act. Tomorrow, when the stars begin to shine.-

The owl took to the air silently. The corvids on the other hand, made a sound like human laughter.

*** LINE ***

Agent R had been having a good week, overall. He'd managed to hit the Phantom with one of the prototypes a couple of days ago. Made it bleed. It had gotten away, of course, but then, it always did. The monster.

It had still had the wound when it showed up yesterday, though. That was new. Agent R had gotten a promotion for that.

There were only two black spots, as far as he was concerned. One, his wife's cat had hated him even more than usual the past couple of days and had given him a nasty scratch. And, two, the promotion wouldn't take effect until next Monday, so he still had dusk patrol.

He was thinking these thoughts when a ghost- a neon green cat- leaped out of the alleyway in front of him, turned towards him, meowed loudly, and then took off down the street.

Agent R chased after it. That was his job, after all. He pushed the button to radio in his partner, and got a load of static in his ears for his trouble. He brushed it off. They had just gotten new sets at the beginning of the month, and there were always bugs. The cat ghost was small. Probably barely corporeal. A class three, most likely. He chased after it on his own.

(He shouldn't have done this. He should have waited. Should have remembered that radio static could mean something very dangerous was near. That it could indicate the presence of high levels of ambient spectral noise.)

The cat turned the corner into a narrow alley, and Agent R sped after it, raising his blaster. One shot should do it, for such a small ecto-entity.

He was three, long, running strides into the alley when the tiger materialized, all electric blue and white, burning like fire.

He was dead before he hit the ground.

*** LINE ***

Everyone had their part, after that. The body needed to disappear. The rats, ravens, and crows were the most helpful in this respect. The dogs and cats had little taste for the flesh of men, although the dogs took the bones happily enough. Except for the skull. The tiger kept that, and no one was inclined to gainsay him.

The dogs, cats, and foxes shredded the clothes, and distributed them. The owls and ravens took the little bits of technology and flew high and far with them, dropping them, and letting them shatter into uselessness on the pavement, so that the lesser corvids could squabble over the shinies.

The ghosts took charge of the ecto-guns and weapons. They would be more easily disposed of in the Ghost Zone.

Other things were harder to deal with. The shoes, for example. But the rats dragged them down to the sewers. They knew places to hide things where no human would go.

Soon, all that was left of Agent R, who had so foolishly celebrated injuring the one person who stood between Amity Park and total destruction, was a stain on the pavement, and even that was hidden beneath fresh urine.

The Boy would doubtless not approve, reflected Inky as she licked clean a paw, but he was such a young thing. He needed to be protected. He deserved to be protected.

*** LINE ***

Danny caught the weekly missing persons report two days later after dinner. He frowned recognizing the agent that had hit him with that awful weapon, but shook his head. The fact that the guy had gone missing had nothing to do with him. 'Agent R,' as the man was called, wasn't from Amity, he hated Danny's guts, and was from an organization that was increasingly dedicated to hating Danny's guts. Not Danny's problem.

Now, the missing dentist, that he might look into.


	29. Chapter 29

Day 29: Season Four

A month after Danny finally revealed his secret, Maddie still had trouble thinking of Danny as a ghost. Half-ghost. Human-ghost hybrid. She still had trouble even wrapping her head around the concept.

(It was easier with Danielle. Danielle was impossible in other ways.)

To be entirely honest, she didn't _want_ to wrap her head around the concept. She had spent the first three weeks in denial. If she had spoken to Jazz, she probably would have been told that she was now in the 'bargaining' stage.

She didn't want to think that she had killed, half-killed, whatever, her youngest child. She didn't want to think that Danny was controlled, in part or whole, by ghostly instincts. Instincts that she had believed were irredeemably evil for most of her life.

That really wasn't any excuse for what she had done. But she was hoping that by the time Danny was in his right mind again, she will have been able to shape it into something approximating an acceptable explanation.

There was a tinkling noise from upstairs, and then the chiming, almost bell-like, sound of ghostly laughter, then a thump, then more laughter. Maddie put her head in her hands, and groaned.

"So," said Jazz. Her daughter was sitting across the table from her, wrapped in a sweater and jacket, a cup of tea in her hands. It shouldn't have been necessary. It was almost May, for pity's sake. But as it was, frost was creeping down the walls. "Now that we've got him more or less occupied, what was that _supposed_ to do to Danny?"

"I just wanted to help him," groaned Maddie.

"Yeah? So, what was it supposed to do?"

"It was supposed to help him suppress his ghost-half's instincts."

"Mom."

"Jazz, I know you don't understand, but-"

"No, Mom, I don't understand. I thought that you were- I thought that you and Dad had accepted him. All of him."

"I _did._ I _do._ "

"So why-"

"Because humans aren't supposed to have obsessions, Jazz."

Jazz scoffed. "Like you and Dad haven't been obsessed with ghosts for our entire lives."

"That's not the same. I-"

The temperature of the room abruptly dropped, and both women turned towards the stairs. A brightly glowing, silvery-white blur flew down the stairs, and came to a halt by the table.

"Danny!" said Maddie with forced enthusiasm. "I thought you were playing upstairs with Danielle?"

"Mhm," said the little ghost, looking between his sister and his mother with huge, bright, burning, blue eyes. "Sili ithiesi isiith?" he asked, tilting his head to one side.

"Uhm," said Jazz. "Could you say that more slowly?

A second blur flew down the steps, stopping when it ran into Danny, resolving itself into Danielle. Her glow wasn't nearly as bright as her cousin-clone's.

"Hey, Danny, I thought that we were playing upstairs?"

"Sili miith isiith?"

"Uh, yeah, they're fine? You guys are okay, right?"

"Yeah, we're okay, Danny. We didn't mean to distract you."

Danny smiled broadly at Jazz, showing a set of white, sharp, teeth. "Hi hlifsir." He tilted his head again, contemplatively. "E sir shiehshi ishixese Sam sihv Tucker!"

"What? No, Danny, you can't leave!" Danielle grabbed Danny's sleeve and held on.

Danny frowned. "Ssihhi?"

"No!"

"Fe e hiiv ismis ih mir!"

"They're _fine_ , Danny."

"Miith sili rith hleihvs! E zsih isii mir! _Hsisisi?"_

"I know, I know, but you can't. You'd freak people out if you flew around like this."

Danny made an high pitched, inhuman whine. "Fe miith sili _rehi."_

"You promised that you'd hang out with me today, remember?"

"E hliresiv?"

"Yes, you promised."

Danny sagged, then brightened. "Ithie reshm siri?"

"No we're staying home. Look, what if I let you pick the next game?"

"Lisissith?" He was halfway to the stairs again when he stopped, and looked back at Jazz and Maddie. "Sili ithie seli msi ithie sili isiith?"

"They're fine, Danny."

Danny smiled again and shot up the stairs.

"What language is that anyway?"

"Ssihshesishi," answered Danielle. "It's pretty obscure. I'm hoping that he'll switch to something easier soon. Like Latin." She rubbed an eye. "Y'know, if this doesn't wear off soon, you should probably call Sam and Tucker. I don't know how much longer I can keep him focused by myself."

"Sam and Tucker couldn't stand up to him. It's too dangerous."

Danielle snorted. "When has that stopped them? Anyway, Danny'd never hurt them. He'd never hurt _any_ one. That's not the problem here and you know it." She rolled her eyes. "Now stop being upset. That's why he keeps coming down here, you know." She floated up through the ceiling.

There was a beat of silence.

"Stop being upset? I drugged my child!"

"We'll work through it, Mom." Jazz sighed. "And you should probably talk to Danny about the whole obsession thing. They aren't what you think."

"And his fixation on Sam and Tucker? That's not a problem?"

"Seriously, Mom? And the only real problem will be if a powerful ghost comes through."

Almost as soon as the words left Jazz's mouth, the ecto-exodus alarm began to go off.

"I just had to say something," groaned Jazz.


	30. Chapter 30

**Just a short little fluffy thing.**

Day 30: Together

Danny flopped down on the blanket, exhausted. Tucker and Sam joined him moments later. Jazz took a little longer to make it up the hill. Danielle dropped in from above, still in ghost form.

"That took forever," complained the little ghost.

"Eh. It wasn't that long," said Danny, waving his hand in the air.

"Dude, it took, like, an hour."

"Yeah? Hey, Tuck, remember when we first started?"

"You mean when he released all the ghosts we had spent all night catching?" asked Sam.

"Wow, we were such noobs back then."

"Jazz was worse."

"Hey!"

"It's true, though. Danielle, wanna turn down the glow?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Danielle turned human in a flash of light. "So when is this thing starting?"

"Last week," said Danny.

"What?"

"But the peak is tonight. It should be dark enough any minute now."

They watched sky intently, listening while Danny named the stars and planets as they emerged from the dusk.

Danielle was the first to see a meteor. Ghost eyes were sharper. But soon everyone was able to see the shower.

"I'm glad we were able to find time to come see this," said Sam, once the initial excitement wore off.

Danny glanced at her, before returning his gaze to the sky. "It lasts until the twenty-fourth. You'd have had one free night to see them in all of that."

"Yeah, but not with all of us together."

"True."


	31. Chapter 31

**This is a continuation from Day 26: Imprisoned.**

Day 31: Free Day

Danny woke in a strange place and immediately panicked. The last thing he remembered was being dragged along a hall by that one-eyed ghost, going to that place where they punished him.

He had every right to panic.

More so, when he found himself at least partially bound by... something. He didn't know what. He just wanted to get away. He wanted to get out. He didn't want to go through that again. So he clawed at whatever was wrapped around his chest and face. He needed to get out.

His panic only increased when a pair of hands seized his wrists, and held them firmly. He thrashed, whimpering, on the surprisingly soft surface. But after a while he became aware of other sounds. Something rhythmic, soothing, and the pattern of speech, repeated gently, but urgently, and then more calmly as he exhausted himself and began to falter.

When he woke again, it was to the sound of clocks and his own breathing. He immediately stopped the second.

"Breathe, Daniel."

Danny flinched away from the voice before he was able to process what it had said. They had used his name. The one-eyed ghosts never used his name. So, did that mean that it was okay to breathe, or was this an elaborate-

"This isn't a trap, child. I know that this is hard for you, but you recognize my voice?"

In other circumstances, Danny would have bristled at being called a child. As it was, it felt like a blessing. People protected children, and he very much wanted to be protected right now.

"Clockwork?" he asked hoarsely, trying to sit up. "What happened?"

A cool hand pushed him back to the bed. "You took an attack that was intended for me. I won't ask you what you were thinking, because I know you don't remember."

"An attack..." There was a scene etched, however imprecisely into his memory. Danny, the Observant, Clockwork... "The one-eyed ghost?"

"Yes," said Clockwork shortly. "You were very nearly destroyed."

"Oh," said Danny, trying to formulate his next question. He traced a hand over the bandages on his face.

"Amity is intact, if a little worse for wear. There has been some damage that would not have occurred if you were present. It is not your fault," Clockwork continued, taking Danny's hand in his, and pulling it away from where he had begun to pick anxiously at his bandages. "Blame the Observants before you blame yourself."

"I have to go back," said Danny. He didn't move, though.

"Returning as you are will help no one," said Clockwork, kindly. "You have to heal, first."

Clcokwork began to pull his hand away, but Danny grabbed it and held on tightly. "Don't go," he whispered. "Please. Stay."

"Of course," said Clockwork softly. Danny felt Clockwork move closer, and he relaxed again. Just as he was drifting back to sleep, he heard Clockwork murmur, even more softly, "Of course, my child."


	32. Chapter 32

**Hey! It's May!**

 **It's been a whole year since I started posting on this site. A year since I did the first of these one shots. It seems like much longer.**

 **Please enjoy, please review, and, as always, if one of these tickle your fancy, you can adopt them. Just contact me first! :)**

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Doorways

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"Oh, no," whispered Danny, eyes wide and frightened. "Come on, don't do this." He tried again. Failed again. His hand skimming through the doorknob like it was made of vapour. He hissed in frustration.

And stopped breathing as soon as he realized what he had done.

He reminded himself, he was human. He was _still_ human. He had to breathe.

It had been a week since... A week since he... A week since the... Since the Accident. Last night had been his first home from the hospital.

He'd been having trouble with doors. With more than just doors, if he was being honest.

At the hospital, he'd tensed every time he passed through one. With tensing had come... unusual effects. Effects he had ignored. Effects he had hoped would go away. Like that _face_ in the mirror above the lab sink. The face that wasn't his. No matter what Sam and Tucker said. No matter that the effects were getting worse.

He rubbed a circle into the palm of his left hand. There was a scar there. He breathed in, breathed out. He was human. Just a human. A normal human who could use doors like a human. He didn't have a phobia about the thing that had... The thing that... It hadn't happened, anyway. His hand wasn't slipping through the doorknob, either.

He reached out to grasp the doorknob once more, and smiled in victory as his palm made contact with cold metal. Cold metal like... Like the...

His smile faltered.

Cold metal like the...

It was just a _doorknob_ not-

... the side of the...

Door, it was just a door.

... _portal._

Danny's whole body flickered. He fell through the floor. Twice. He was in the lab, now, green light playing through his squeezed-shut eyelids. He could feel the jumpsuit against his skin, completely different from the loose pajamas he had been wearing.

Was this even real? Was this some kind of flashback? Did he have PTSD, or schizophrenia, or something equally awful and wrong? He curled into a ball and whimpered.

It couldn't be real. Falling two stories should have hurt. It didn't even feel like he had hit the ground. Actually, he couldn't feel the ground at all. It felt a little like he was still falling, but he knew he wasn't moving. Curiosity overwhelmed fear, and he let his eyes open.

He was floating. Not much, he was only a few inches off the lab's metal floor. Still.

He reached a shaking, _gloved, glowing_ hand out to touch the floor, and gravity decided it wanted him again. Danny didn't much care. He was too busy looking at the gloves, the boots, the jumpsuit. The inverted jumpsuit. He got to his feet, registering that they didn't make a single sound against the floor. He ran to the mirror over the sink, aware that he was more or less repeating the aftermath of his... of the Accident.

White hair. Green eyes. He was _glowing._ He gripped the edge of the sink, the metal deforming under his fingers. He was a ghost.

He was dead.

Something flickered in the corner of his eye, and he whirled. Was it his parents-?

No. It was the portal. The portal that had caused all this. That had killed him. It was big, and bright, and green. It pulsed in its frame, swirling hypnotically. Danny's breathing slowed and his heart climbed down from his throat as he traced a pattern traveling around the portal's rim. The portal seemed to calm as he did, although that had to be an illusion.

Cautiously, Danny took a step forward. Then another. The portal had already killed him. What else could it do? Well, a lot of things, probably, bit he had to live with it. Or not live with it. He couldn't avoid it forever, in any case, not if he wanted to stay.

It was almost directly under his bed.

He couldn't stay afraid of it forever. He couldn't stay afraid of doors forever. Someone would notice, and then... He shuddered, and the patterns in the portal shook loose into gentle arcs reminiscent of the waves on the screen of a sound frequency recorder, or of spools of tangled string, before recoalescing.

He was so close.

He extended a hand that was no longer gloved, stopping just before he touched the misty, undulating membrane that marked the entrance of the portal. A wispy thread of ectoplasmic mist broke off of the surface, and wound around Danny's hand. His heart jumped at the contact, but quickly returned to its proper place and rhythm. The mist re-merged with the rest of the portal, and Danny lowered his hand, flexing it.

That- That hadn't been so bad, had it?

He turned to face the mirror. He couldn't see himself at this angle. He walked away from the portal, purposefully not looking at it. His reflection was-

Normal.

Black hair, blue eyes, wearing pajamas. That was good, right?

He walked up the stairs and opened the lab door.


	33. Chapter 33

**If you enjoy these, please consider reading my other stories. I have a fine selection of one-shots, a completed multi-chapter fic, and one ULTRA LONG _MONSTROSITY._**

 **Thank you for your time.**

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Secrets

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Amity Park was a nice place to live. It really was. But it had secrets. Lots of them. Every citizen, every single one, had them. But then, everyone in the world had secrets. Big secrets, small secrets, dangerous secrets, harmless secrets.

Even so, Amity Park had more than it's fair share. In fact, Amity Park had as many secrets as Washington DC, despite being home to only a fraction of the population of the larger city.

So many secrets. So many big, terrible secrets. Secrets that would frighten. Secrets that would excite. One more secret would be nothing, would be lost in the noise.

This was what Danny was trying to tell Mr Bower and his widow.

"We can't just pretend I'm not dead," protested Mr Bower as he fluttered around the room. "That's illegal."

Danny puffed his bangs out of his face and crossed his arms. "According to the GIW, being a ghost is illegal."

"He's right, dear," said Mrs Bower, a round, compact old woman who had once been a very highly paid lawyer. "I've looked at all the laws."

"So," said Danny, "your options are this, go into hiding, get caught by the Fentons, get caught by the GIW, or move to the Ghost Zone, and I don't think those appeal to you." He paused, and glanced at Mrs Bower, who was sitting patiently on her floral couch. "Do you?"

Mr Bower shook his head, wispy grey hair flopping back and forth. It was begining to regrow over his bald spot. Danny wondered when he'd notice

"No! Of course not. I want to stay with Zelda. But, Phantom, this is _fraud_ we're talking about. I draw a pension. Social security. I vote! People go to jail for things like this."

"Then don't. Stop cashing the checks. Cancel your registration. It only counts as fraud if there's money involved, right?" Danny actually had no idea. Most of his legal knowledge centered around the Anti-Ecto Acts and _Law & Order _reruns. "Or votes, or whatever."

Mr Bower scowled. "It's not that simple," he said. "What about other people. Won't they notice?"

"I don't see why," said Danny. "You look human enough. Just don't use your powers in public, and stay in well-lit areas. No one will notice. I mean, I've gone into stores and stuff in a hat and sunglasses, and different clothes and no one notices."

It was Mrs Bower who spoke next, leaning forward. "What about the hunters? Don't they have machines that can detect ghosts?"

Danny suppressed a scoff. "The GIW's detectors are trash. Unless you're a level five, and you're not, no offense, they have to be within ten feet to pick you up. The Fentons' stuff is better, but as long as you don't let anything hit you, they can be talked down. If you don't do anything obviously ghostly. Um." Danny's eyes darted to Mrs Bower. "You should avoid Mayor Masters, too."

"Vlad Masters? Why?" asked Mr Bower.

"He studied spectrology with the Fentons," said Danny, carefully, "and he's not what he seems." He made a face. "I can't tell you any more than that. Sorry. It's a ghost thing."

"I am a ghost."

"Yeah," said Danny. His eyes slid over to Mrs Bower. "But, um, sorry. Yeah. Someone else will be able to tell you. Just, in the meantime, stay away. It shouldn't be too hard since you're both retired. I'll come back later, tomorrow night, maybe, if that's okay? And introduce you to some of the other ghosts that hang out in town. They can maybe help you figure out how to, um, handle everything?"

Mr Bower nodded, lips pressed tightly together. "What about the, ah. My, um." His eyes drifted back towards his bedroom.

"I'll take care of it," said Danny. "I'll phase it down beneath the foundation. No one will find it."

"It's that simple?"

"Basically."

"It's all that simple?"

"Well, no. But a lot of it is."

"But it _can't_ be. A secret this big, it can't be kept."

"Sure it can," said Danny. He smiled sharply, suddenly, as a thought crossed his mind. "Besides, you know that old saying."

"What?"

 _"Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead."_


	34. Chapter 34

**Guest (who reviewed ch 17): I'm probably not going to continue that one, but that's partially because a very similar scenario is a plot point in Mortified, my long fic. You might enjoy checking that one out.**

 **Enby-Neti: I'm really happy that my fics inspire you! That's like, the best thing.**

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Grave

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Dew glimmered on the dark stones that lined the path, thick and clean. Innocent, in some ways, marred only by the white apple blossoms that had blown free of the trees. Cold, but not freezing. Delicate. Glass-like, and fragile.

Most importantly, though, it was early enough that the cemetery was completely empty.

Harold locked his lips, and started up over the fence. He had to do those, otherwise Marshal would never stop bullying him. This wasn't hurting anyone. If the people those graves belonged to were alive, they would understand.

He touched down on the other side, and looked around furtively. The cemetery had a live-in caretaker, paid for by the city council. Amity Park was notoriously superstitious.

He crept to what he thought was an out-of-the-way corner, and slung off his backpack. The spray paint rattled inside it. Harold reached inside for the pink, and looked, apologetic, at the stone in front of him.

 _Jasmine Fenton,_ it read. Then, below that, _Fierce._ There wasn't a date. The rest of the stone was covered in a weird, swirly pattern. Harold thought the name Fenton sounded familiar, but he couldn't place why.

He shook the paint can vigorously, made sure the nozzle was pointed away from him, and aimed it carefully at the stone. He had never done this before, and was half afraid that it would explode in his hand.

"You shouldn't do that."

The voice was cold and faint, but far too close. It was more than enough for Harold to start, slip on the wet grass, and fall. He almost collided with the gravestone, but someone caught the back of his shirt and dragged him back onto his feet.

He turned, shoulders hunched against the scolding he was surely about to receive, an explanation on his lips. But when he saw who had caught him, the words died in his throat.

It wasn't human. It looked like a boy, a boy around his age, but it _wasn't_ _human._

It wasn't even standing on the ground.

Harold dropped the can of spray paint. It never hit the ground. Instead, as Harold's eyes desperately traced the can down, it became surrounded by a faint green nimbus, and bobbed mid-air. Harold squeaked.

"Look, I'm not going to hurt you."

Harold's eyes snapped back up to the source of the slightly echoing voice. The... _thing_ had tan skin and white hair. It wore a high-collared black formal suit, an _all_ black suit, complete with gloves. Even the shirt, which was usually white, was black. It wore a crown of ice. Its eyes glowed green.

"W-what are you?"

The thing rolled his eyes. "Dude," it said, using slang that Harold was more accustomed to hearing from his parents' mouths, "think about where you are. I'm a ghost. Duh." It raised a charcoal black eyebrow. "By the way, you're standing on my sister's grave. Mind moving?"

Harold jumped sideways.

"... and now you're standing on mine. Dude. Just get off the graves. There's a path here. That's what it's for."

Yes, and the _ghost_ was floating over it. Harold glanced down. "You, you're Daniel Fenton?"

"Yep. In case you're wondering why that name sounds familiar, think _Phantom._ "

Harold blinked. His eyes narrowed. "Are you filming me?"

"Nah, that's more Tucker's thing."

"That's an urban legend." He pointed at the spray paint can. "Do you have antigrav buried here? A holoprojector?"

"No."

Harold frowned, and leaned forward to poke the 'ghost.'

His hand went right through its shoulder. Harold's first thought was 'holoprojector' but a holoprojector would have glitched.

"Are you done?"

Harold squeaked and ran.

Danny sighed, and bent to pick up the boy's back. He found a tag on it soon enough. Harold Baxter, was it? Dash's grandkid. Danny shook his head. He knew where the house was. He'd drop off the bag after his visit with his grandnephew. Although... He eyed the spray paint, and a small smile crept over his face. He _was_ a ghost. It would be almost criminal _not_ to engage in some mischief. He knew some places around town that could use a little decoration.

He levitated out the cans of spray paint until he had a rough rainbow orbiting his head. Eric probably wasn't even awake yet. He could take his time.


	35. Chapter 35

**Guest: I do try to answer asks. I'm glad you like hide and seek so much. That did seem to be a popular one. Since I have a bunch of other projects going on, though, I'm probably not going to in the near future (unless something jumps out at me for these prompts). I hope you enjoy the rest regardless!**

 **Anne Camp: Hey, future Danny deserves to be happy!**

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Wishes

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Two ghosts flew through the mists and mountains of the Infinite Realms. They were very much like one another. Young, white hair, green eyes, tan skin, black and white HAZMAT suits... The only visible difference between the two of them was that one was male and the other female. Hardly a difference at all, when you came down to it, an exchange of one, miserable chromosome. A genetic difference of less than three percent. Hardly anything at all.

There was no reason the girl shouldn't have everything the boy did.

"Remember," said Danny, "don't say the W-word until we've got the deal, and you're sure you've got everything you want."

"Right," said Ellie, nervous. "But are you sure this will work?"

"No, but it's worth a try, isn't it?"

"I guess."

Danny stopped. "Ellie, if you don't want to do this, we don't have to. I don't want to force you into something you're not comfortable with, just because _I_ think it's best." Danny was always very careful about that. It would be the easiest way for his Obsession to warp to the dark.

"It isn't that," said Ellie, shaking her head. "It's just that it's a big change and I don't want to, you know, get my hopes up. In case it doesn't work, or she wants something too big."

Danny bit his lip and nodded. He didn't like how resigned his twin (clone) was, but he could understand it.

"Anyway," Ellie continued, "this isn't what you thought was best. You wanted to tell your parents the whole thing about us, and I vetoed that."

"I think 'wanted' is a bit too strong of a word there, sis," said Danny, trying to turn it into a joke.

Ellie smiled, but didn't laugh. "Anything else I should know about Desiree before we get there?" she asked, flying on. Danny was just repeating things at this point, but the distraction was keeping her from freaking out.

"Okay, well, the W-word stuff isn't her Obsession, it's actually-"

"I wonder," said a smooth, deep, voice, "why a little girl like you would need to anything about me, much less my Obsession."

There was a moment when both Danny and Ellie tried to interpose themselves between Desiree and the other, and failed miserably. It was probably better to fight side-by-side anyway, but they really needed to work out things like this ahead of time.

Luckily, Desiree did not attack. Instead, the genie-like ghost seemed content to watch them in amusement.

However, some of that amusement faded by the time they had organized themselves.

"Of course," said Desiree, flicking her periwinkle blue tail, "there's only one reason anyone comes looking for _me._ So, what is your wish, children?" Her tone was cheerful, friendly, overall. Cajoling, almost. But it would take an idiot to miss the resentment lying behind her every word, or the cruel glint to her smile.

"We're not here for that," said Danny, quickly.

"We want to make a deal," continued Ellie.

Desiree crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. "And what would you want from me?"

"Well," said Ellie, trailing off, not sure how to phrase things.

"Nothing but a wish, hmm? You're no different than all the others that have hounded me over the years."

Danny tilted his head. "Is that why you live all the way out here?" he asked, indicating the rocky landscape. This was a large island, for the Wastes, covered in tall, narrow, lumpy mountains. It was a good place to hide.

Desiree lowered her eyelids, and looked down her nose at the Phantoms. "What do you think?"

Danny and Ellie exchanged a glance. "We were hoping we could do an exchange," said Ellie.

"One for you and one for us," Danny added. "You can't grant your own, right?"

"We can make a... you know... that you want, and then you do ours, but without making it weird."

"Without warping it," clarified Danny, nodding sharply to emphasize the point. "Like you usually do."

"But the one we do for you has to be reasonable," said Ellie, falling smoothly into rhythm. "Nothing like taking over the world."

"Or anything that would hurt people."

"That's hardly any fun at all," said Desiree, but she seemed intrigued, a curled finger held to her lower lip. "So, what do you want?"

Ellie took a deep breath, and Danny drifted closer to squeeze her hand encouragingly.

"I don't know if you know what I am," started Ellie.

"You're a halfa," said Desiree. "What, do you want me to turn you human?"

"No. That would be stupid. I know you can't do that, anyway."

"Excuse me? I turned _him_ human."

"Not really," said Danny, a little lazily. "You just made me forget what I was."

"Anyway," said Ellie, brusquely, "that isn't it. I'm a clone. Of him. Plasmius made me."

"Clone?"

"Sister-by-theft," said Danny, using the ghost term.

"Ah," said Desiree. "Go on."

"You know what Danny's family is like."

"The lunatics, yes."

"Hey," said Danny, without any heat whatsoever.

"We can't really explain this to them," continued Ellie. "But I want to- I want to be part of their family. Really part of it. I want a place to belong."

Desiree's expression had softened as Ellie spoke. "You want me to change memories," she said.

"Yeah," said Ellie, voice breaking a little.

"That's what I wanted, too," said Desiree. "All my life. A place to call my own. A _kingdom._ I was promised one, once. I gave them all they desired, yet received nothing in return."

"So..." said Danny, after Desiree had grown quiet. "How about we do one to make this place," he gestured to the island once more, "your kingdom."

"And you do one to make it so that everyone knows that my human half is part of the Fenton family. That I'm Danny and Jazz's sister."

"Deal?" finished Danny.

Desiree hesitated, then nodded. "Deal."


	36. Chapter 36

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Second Gen

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"Are you sure you want to try again?" asked Danny. Sam had been pregnant twice before. They didn't have any children. "We could adopt." He had brought that up before, after the first time. Before the second time.

"I'm sure."

Danny bit his lip. The last two times had been hard. The worst part was, he was sure it was his fault. Sure that the issue was him, and his stupid not alive but not dead body. It hurt, seeing those little bodies, knowing that it had been his job to protect them, his job to protect Sam from the pain of losing them, and he hadn't. He couldn't imagine what it had been like for Sam.

But she wanted to try again. He couldn't say no.

"Okay," he said.

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They walked out of the hospital, fresh from the first ultrasound.

Sam was pregnant again, and Danny was staying close, this time. He took a leave of absence from work. Every moment was precious, every second where there was still hope was to be cherished.

Everyone walked on eggshells around them.

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A week later, Danny made arrangements to go to the Far Frozen.

If the issue was with Danny's ghostliness, then ghosts might have a solution. At least, that's what Danny thought, and Sam agreed. He wished he had thought of it earlier, but one miscarriage wasn't a pattern. It was, they had both been reassured, fairly normal.

But two? Danny knew that many wouldn't call it a pattern until they got to three, but Danny couldn't let it go that far.

Sam bundled up in her thickest winter gear, and they took the Specter Speeder. Danny flew ahead to scout, but didn't dare go far. After everything, Danny's Obsession anchored him to Sam, and there was very little give in that chain.

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"There are records of halfas having children," said Frostbite as they sat in the crystal library of the Far Frozen. Many of the books were made of traditional materials, but more were made of ice and thin sheets of metal, and most weren't books at all, but crystals readable only by those ghosts with ice cores and special training.

"There are?" asked Sam, leaning forward, desperate hope gleaming in her eyes.

"Yes," said Frostbite. "Not many, halfas are a rare kind, but some." The yeti toyed with a book-crystal. "Both with human, ghosts, and other halfas as the partners. It does seem to be more often successful when the _mother_ is the hybrid." The last was spoken in a tone of caution, of warning.

"But that's not the only way it can be successful, is it?"

"No," said Frostbite. "But that pattern, and the circumstances of the other examples of halfas having children does lend itself to a theory of ours."

"What's that?" asked Danny, squeezing his gloves between her hands, twisting them.

"We believe that, much as in the case of the children of full ghosts, the proximity of the parent's core helps to stabilize the child's developing core, and the ectoplasm in the parent's body helps further. Surviving children are also likely to be twins, for the same reason."

"Just like Danielle," said Danny, thinking of his cousin-clone and her troubles with destabilization.

"Yes," said Clockwork.

"So," said Sam, "what should I do? Drink ectoplasm? Stabilizing agent? I mean, weird cravings are par for the course when you're present, right?"

"That might help," said Frostbite, "but it would be best if we ran our tests first." He patted Sam's hand reassuringly. "Fear not, Sam of the Very Vegan. We will figure this out."

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Danny was told to stay close to Sam. Sam was given what Danny could only call a concoction to drink. Both were told to take frequent trips to the Ghost Zone, both for check ups and to make sure the baby developed properly.

In the meantime, they kept going to the human obstetrician as well. Sam was becoming weary of all the doctors visits, on top of the strain of the pregnancy itself, but she soldiered on. Danny tried to make it as easy on her as possible, taking over chores and responsibility, keeping things clean and accessible.

Then during a routine check up, the nurse picked up _two_ heartbeats in the womb.

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Sam was ecstatic. Danny was thrilled. According to Frostbite, twins had a better chance of being carried to term, a better chance of surviving.

Also: twins. Twice the baby, twice the love.

However, it did mean twice the work. Danny and Sam had to double up on supplies and equipment. They needed two sets of clothes, twice as much food, twice as many diapers, two baby seats...

Two names.

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They had to decide whether or not to have the twins be born in a human hospital, or in the Zone. Danny thought it would be best to go to Zone for the delivery. Frostbite and the Far Frozen doctors knew what they were dealing with, unlike the humans who would be in charge at a hospital. On the other hand, Sam was also concerned about keeping secrets and her parents. Specifically, keeping secrets from her parents.

Danny thought that wasn't a high priority, compared to the children. Sam, who at this point was feeling sanguine about the pregnancy, told him that _his_ safety, _his_ secret, was a priority, too.

Eventually, they decided to just go to whichever option was closer.

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Of course, no decision they made really mattered. Of course their kids would decide to be born at the height of a thunderstorm. Of course they would wind up doing this by themselves, stranded, trapped by a malfunctioning ghost shield. Apparently lightning strikes could do weird things to Fenton tech, as well as knock out power.

"Push!" said Danny, holding Sam's hand as she screamed. According to movies and such, that was the thing to do.

"Shut up!" she shouted, squeezing Danny's hand hard. He felt his bones creak under her grip.

This had been going on for a while at this point. Hours.

"They're coming," gasped Sam.

"I know," said Danny, "that's the point of all this, right?"

"No, no, no, _they're coming now._ "

Danny let a curse slip from his lips, and duplicated himself, sending a copy to go catch the babies.

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"Wow," said Sam, exhausted and hoarse. "Okay. Babies. Yay."

"Yeah," said Danny, sitting on either side of Sam. One of him held one baby, Sam held the other. "I guess I should go see if I can turn off the shield, huh?"

"Uhuh."

One of Danny got up. The other snuggled closer to Sam, holding his youngest daughter close. He could feel the soft hum of her core against his. He stretched his senses out to feel her sister.

"We made some cute kids, huh?"

Sam snorted. "Well, duh. Of course they're cute. I did most of the work."

"That's fair," said Danny, quietly broadcasting ectoenergy to the twins. "So. Who gets which name?"

"Dawn's before Dusk," said Sam.

"Sounds good," said Danny, rocking Dusk back and forth. He started to hum.


	37. Chapter 37

**This is a continuation of Hide and Seek (chapter 13). Has very little to do with actual compromises. Oops.**

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Compromise

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Despite resolving to harass the intruder, Danny was cautious. The man was big, and felt strong. Scary. Danny was certain that _he_ could be scarier, and this was _his_ place, but still.

Also, he couldn't quite place _why,_ but everything felt wrong, felt off. Like the furniture had been shifted a few inches to left, except it hadn't. Then there were his memory difficulties. Trying to remember more than just basic things, more than what he remembered so well he just _knew,_ was impossible. It was like staring into TV static.

Danny blamed the intruder. It made sense.

Okay. So. What could he do? Nothing that required a lot of time. He couldn't use traps, unless they were already there, or really fast to set up. He could use what was in the walls, but that could be dangerous for him, too. He could use weapons. Misdirection. Weird sounds. Ambushes. Invisibility. There were cool tricks with mirrors that he could do. Thrown objects. Tripping hazards. Environmental manipulation. Combinations thereof.

First, Danny needed ammunition, and to know where the man was, because knowledge was power. That was a thing Jazzy always said. Not the ammunition bit, but the knowledge part. What could he use? What did he have?

Spaceship models? No. Clothing? No. Well. Maybe. Maybe he could use clothing to blind the man, dump it over his head, or something. He gathered up a lump. Ugh. No. He didn't have enough carrying capacity. Maybe he could leave them around the house as a tripping-hazard-slash-emergency ammunition thing, but they weren't ideal. Stuffed animals? No. Too much emotional attachment. Pillows? There were only two of them, and they didn't exactly pack a punch. Oh! Tennis balls! Marbles! Shoes? Were these... His? They were way too big. They had to be Daddy's. But they were sneakers. Daddy didn't wear sneakers. He wore boots. Black boots. And this was _Danny's_ room. Why would Daddy's shoes be in his room?

He bit down hard on his lip. Why couldn't he _remember?_ He shook his head. He didn't want to think about it. It was too confusing.

He prepared his room, and gathered up the tennis balls and the marbles. They'd be good ammunition. Great ammunition.

Like before, Danny avoided opening the door, instead choosing to stick his head through the door invisibly and intangibly. The man wasn't in sight, but Danny could hear him. The man was in his parents' room, calling for him, but using his long name. Danny frowned. Only Clockwork was allowed to do that.

He blinked in disorientation. Who was Clockwork?

Trying not to cry (Clockwork was important, how could he not remember?) Danny upended the bag of marbles, opened his mouth, and _shrieked._

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Vlad couldn't find Daniel in his room, his sister's room, or either of the bathrooms. All that was left on the second floor was Jack and Maddie's room. Vlad sighed. He didn't want to go in there, didn't want to be reminded that Jack and Maddie were, well, together.

He opened the door. "Daniel?" he called. He licked his lips, and stepped into the room. "Daniel, my dear boy, you don't need to be afraid." He grimaced at the king-sized bed, then stooped to look under it.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting shriek sounded throughout the house. Vlad jolted up, smacking the back of his head on the underside of the bed-frame. "Butter biscuits! Little badger?" He ran out into the hall. "Are you-?"

He slipped and fell, activating his ghost powers to prevent himself from hitting the floor. Almost immediately, a massive gun popped out of the wall. He let his powers fail, dropping him to the ground. There were these small, hard lumps on it, digging into his back. The gun retracted. Well, well, well, he thought, bitterly. Wasn't Jack compensating for something, hmm? He pushed himself into a sitting position. The floor was covered in marbles.

"Daniel," he said, disapprovingly. "Are you really trying to defeat me with _marbles?_ " He got to his feet avoiding the little things. They were most concentrated right next to the door to Daniel's room. So, he'd been hiding in there, after all!

He shuffled forward to avoid slipping on any more marbles, and pulled open the door. Before he had much of a chance to look inside, he hear a soft thump from behind and was hit in the back of the head with something rubbery and compact. He stumbled forward into the room, focusing on not using his ghost powers, tripped over a pile of clothing, and fell. Again.

There was a childish giggling sound, and the door slammed behind him. Vlad jumped up, stumbled back over Daniel's clothing- the boy's room hadn't been this much of a wreck before- and tried to shove open the door. It budged, but not much.

"Daniel!"

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When the man emerged from Mommy and Daddy's room and fell, Danny fled to the bathroom, hiding in the shadow of the open door. As Danny had expected, the man then went to Danny's room and opened the door.

Danny struck. He couldn't throw the ball directly at the man's head, from the angle he was at, so he bounced the ball off the hallway wall, using reflections in the picture frames to aim. It worked better than he had hoped. The man fell entirely into Danny's room.

Quickly, Danny closed the door, and pushed the hallway bookshelf on front of it. The bookshelf was really heavy, so he had to use his ghost powers to move it.

Something stirred in the wall. That was too much, then. At least he had gotten the bookshelf into position. The man would be stuck unless he used his ghost powers.

Did the man have ghost powers? He didn't know. It felt like he _should,_ but Danny didn't remember.

Danny went downstairs.

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Vlad had underestimated Daniel. It was hard to admit, especially considering that Daniel was currently regressed to the age of five, but there it was. He had gone about the whole thing incorrectly. Next time, he'd do better.

In the meantime, he and Daniel were in a very precarious position. It was unlikely, regressed and confused as he was, that Daniel would understand the importance of keeping their hybrid status, their ghost powers, secret. Therefore, Vlad had to keep Daniel from leaving the house until Vlad could assert control over the situation.

Luckily, Jack and Maddie hadn't just given Vlad the key to the house, they had given him instructions on how to activate and deactivate the house's lockdown mode. So that's what he did.

Then, as the steel shutters rolled down over the windows, Vlad realized that he still had to get out of the room.

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Danny yelped as the house seemed to come alive. It wasn't supposed to do that! Not without his say-so! This was his place! His haunt!

Then he realized that it was just the Fenton Anti-Creep Mode, and relaxed somewhat. That was bad, in that all the ghost sensors would be more sensitive, and that it meant that the stranger knew how to turn it on, because Danny hadn't, but Danny knew how to turn it off.

He just had to... He just...

Oh no.

No, this was bad. He didn't remember. Mommy and Daddy had told him to remember and not forget and he didn't remember and oh no.

Danny swallowed, and scrambled to finish his preparations downstairs.

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Vlad eventually managed to knock down the bookshelf and squeeze out of the room. It was undignified, especially when it came to hopping over the doorknob, but it was better than phasing through and getting chased around by one of Jack and Maddie's ridiculous guns. (He categorically refused to admit that his guns were often even more ridiculous.)

Carefully, this time, aware that little Daniel had time to prepare, Vlad once again cleared all the rooms on the second floor. There was a highly suspicious lack of traps.

Vlad saw why when he got to the stairs. They were covered in... stuff, legos, marbles, blocks, forks and knives, screws, bits of machinery, broken ectoweapons etcetera, and the banister had been removed, disassembled, and laid atop all the other debris. Vlad sighed heavily. What were Jack and Maddie thinking, leaving those things where children could get to them? How had Daniel removed the banister? How was Vlad to explain the rapidly growing mess in the house to Maddie? (True, he could correctly blame it on Daniel, but Maddie had specifically asked him to prevent this sort of thing.)

Still, the stairs were only a delaying tactic. As long as Vlad kept his head about him, and proceeded with caution, the obstacle wouldn't injure him. He started down.

Daniel walked in from the kitchen. Vlad stopped, staring. Now, this was unexpected. Vlad had thought the boy would continue hiding. He was wearing a large, black t-shirt whose hem hung just above his ankles, and he cradled a tube of tennis balls in his tiny hands.

He smiled up at Vlad angelically. Vlad narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Daniel," started Vlad.

In response, Daniel threw a tennis ball in Vlad's general direction. It didn't even come close to hitting him. Honestly, sometimes Daniel's aim was even worse than his fa-

Something hit him in the back of the head. Vlad hissed and turned, trying to see what had hit him. A tennis ball rolled down the stairs. Vlad frowned. Had Daniel managed to hit him with the ricochet? That was far more hand-eye coordination than any five year old should have. Then again, Daniel wasn't really five, was he?

Vlad turned back around, expecting Daniel to have vanished again, only to be hit with another tennis ball, this time squarely in the face. Vlad narrowly stopped himself from charging down the stairs. Instead, he continued his shuffle down the stairs, pushing debris out of his way with his shoes.

Vlad's slow, steady decent must have spooked Daniel, because he ran off. At least, that's what Vlad hoped. Vlad also hoped that Daniel wasn't getting into Jack and Maddie's active, functional weaponry. Beyond the inconvenience it would cause Vlad, the weapons were too large for someone as small as Daniel currently was to handle safely.

Vlad sighed again. He really should have only given Daniel the age-shifting elixir under more controlled conditions. Well. Live and learn.

He got to the bottom of the stairs, and started his search for Daniel anew. Living room, kitchen, kitchen cabinets dining room, entryway, bathroom- There! Vlad caught the boy's reflection in the mirror, though he did a good job of hiding behind the door.

Aware of how Daniel had fooled him before, and wary of traps, Vlad approached slowly, at first. But, as his hand closed on the doorknob, the excitement overcame him and he leaped into the room, and grabbed Daniel by the shoulder so he couldn't run.

Wait. Wasn't Daniel smaller than this at the moment?

Vlad turned the figure around, and came face to face with a hideous robot... doll... thing.

The bathroom door quietly snicked closed behind him. Vlad grabbed the handle and jiggled it. The door was stuck. Vlad suspected that Daniel had wedged a chair under the doorknob on the other side. This was the second time today that Daniel had trapped him in a room.

Vlad took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and counted to ten. He would not get angry. In the past, anger clouding his judgement had lead to mistakes and failures. Daniel probably didn't even know what he was doing. All the child ghosts he had tested the elixir on had become confused, disoriented, and amnesiac once the elixir took effect. Daniel likely was, as well, despite his surprising performance today.

(Really, Daniel had so much potential. It was a shame it had been smothered by Jack's mediocrity. If only Daniel could see that.)

But Vlad was the adult here. He was the one with more experience, the more mature one. He should be able to out-think Daniel, who, even without the age-shifting, was only fifteen.

The direct approach wasn't working, and would likely continue to not work. In any case, he'd wanted to get Daniel to trust him, and chasing him around probably wasn't conducive to that. Yes, he should try to salvage as much as he could. But how?

Daniel was using tools from around the house. Perhaps Vlad could as well. And the reason main reason Vlad was having so much difficulty was the house's defense system. He could disable that, or parts of it. Then, he could focus on defeating Daniel with his old standbys. Half-truths, lies, and bribery.

Well. Perhaps he shouldn't think of it as 'defeating' Daniel. That was the wrong track to take with a child. Vlad knew that. He had done his research. He always did his research.

(Usually.)

It would be better to think of it as... reaching a mutually acceptable compromise. Yes. That was the ticket. He would stay nice and calm, and make a deal with Daniel. Gain his trust, as he originally planned. Offer him things he wanted. He was sure he could think of something. Daniel's wants wouldn't be too complex in his current state.

Once Vlad was sure he was calm, sure he could remain calm, he forced the door open, and set about his plan.

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Danny didn't know what to do. The man was so _cautious,_ now. Danny couldn't find a good time to attack, and none of his makeshift, quickly built 'traps' were working. He couldn't take the man on head-on, and he didn't have the stamina to keep moving around to make the big 'traps.' All he could do was hide as the man moved around the house, searching.

(He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew this man somehow, that he had met him before, but he couldn't remember.)

He was tempted to go down into the basement and get some of Mommy and Daddy's big, shiny guns. The guns were made to hurt ghosts, but Danny was sure they'd hurt the man, too. But Mommy and Daddy said to never go into the basement without them, never touch the guns, and the basement was _scary._

Then the man went into the basement, and Danny's chance was lost. He waited, nervous, for him to come back, then realized there was a resource he hadn't used yet, something that would probably make the man angry, and that would make him sloppy again, and then maybe Danny could chase him away.

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Vlad opened the door, and stepped off the stairs and into the kitchen. He saw Daniel crouching by the fridge. He stopped, wary of whatever Daniel had in mind.

Daniel threw the door of the fridge open, and hollered, in a precious, childish voice, "Attack!"

A moment later, Vlad knew why. A dozen hot dogs flew from the fridge under their own power, and then flew at him, gnashing sharp teeth. Surprising. Vlad had known of the hot dogs, had discovered them when he slipped the elixir into Daniel's milk, but didn't know that Daniel had them trained.

Now that the house's internal defenses were disabled, Vlad took care of them easily, trapping them in a pink sphere. Daniel would likely be upset if he destroyed them.

Speaking of Daniel, the child was crouched on the floor, wide-eyed, staring at Vlad's easy display of ghost powers. He vanished. Vlad pushed the hot dogs back into the refrigerator sighed. He was doing that a lot today. Of course Daniel would vanish, after that. Vlad had just demonstrated that he could use his powers without fear of retribution from the house.

On the other hand, he would be nearby, listening. Vlad was sure of that. He couldn't leave the house, anyway. The shutters and shields were still up. Vlad had only disabled the internal defenses.

"Daniel," started Vlad, "I know that you're confused and scared right now, and I understand. It's okay. I'm not mad. Just listen to me, please, little badger?" He paused, giving Daniel a chance to process. "I'm Vlad Masters, a friend of your parents. They asked me to keep on eye on you while they're away. You can see," he said, starting to lay the pictures he had gathered from around the house on the kitchen table, "here, in these pictures. I'm in them. We've met before. You can look." He paused again, carefully arranging the pictures so they could be seen from the kitchen door. "When I arrived, you had been attacked by a ghost. Desiree, I believe her name was." It was important to have the lie be believable, consistent with reality, even if Daniel didn't actively remember enough to dispute it. Desiree had the ability to do things like this. "I'm not sure exactly what happened, or how you were affected, but I want to help you." There was no response, but then, Vlad didn't expect for there to be one. Not yet. Time to change tracks. "I bet you're hungry," he said. Daniel wouldn't have eaten since the elixir had taken effect, and he had vomited that up. "Why don't I make you some food?"

He began to look around the kitchen. It was horrifically under-stocked. What were Jack and Maddie doing, leaving Daniel here alone without any food? He shook his head. Eventually, though, he found a box of pancake mix, and a bag of chocolate chips. That would have to do, despite it being closer dinnertime than lunch. But children liked chocolate chip pancakes, didn't they?

"How about chocolate chip pancakes?" asked Vlad, projecting confidence. "A little treat."

He started cooking, and, to his pleasure, spotted Daniel out of the corner of his eye several times. The little badger was hungry, and curious, but still too scared to come close, or even stay visible.

Vlad started stirring water into the pancake mix, and slipped a little bottle out from inside his jacket pocket. The age-shifting elixir wasn't the only thing he had researched. He put a drop of the fluid inside of it into the pancake batter. It wouldn't put Daniel to sleep, but, combined with the heavy, filling food, it would make him drowsy. It was an underhanded trick, but it was necessary.

Although he had lied to Daniel about the cause of his current state, blaming it on Desiree, the fact was that Vlad really didn't know why the age-shifting elixir had changed Daniel so much. Without knowing that, he couldn't predict, couldn't even begin to predict, how it might continue to affect him. For the other children, the effects had worn off within a few days. Would that still be the case for Daniel? Would there be other side effects? He didn't know. So he had to get Daniel to his lab, so he could examine him. As Daniel had proven unwilling to came with Vlad so far, drugging him again was the lesser of two evils.

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Danny watched as the man, Vlad, started cooking. He hadn't noticed before, but he was hungry. Really, really hungry. The smell of the pancakes was just about making his stomach eat itself.

He looked at the pictures on the table. His Mommy and Daddy were in them, and so was Vlad. He bit his lip. He could remember that Desiree had made him confused before, even if he couldn't quite remember who Desiree was. What Vlad said made sense. Danny wanted to believe him. It would make things easier.

But something told him to stay hidden, at least for now. It was getting harder. He wasn't just hungry. He was tired, too. He knew his invisibility was flickering, and he was certain Vlad had seen him watching.

Then Vlad stepped away from the stove, the plate in his hand piled high with dollar pancakes. Danny's mouth watered.

Vlad put the plate on the table, and peeled a pancake off the top of the stack, making a show of eating it. Then he put out a fork, a knife, another plate, and the butter.

"I'm going to step out now," said Vlad, "let you eat in peace." He smiled in Danny's general direction (Danny had to check and make sure he was still invisible), and left the kitchen through the other door.

Danny resisted temptation for maybe a minute, but then it was too much. He was too hungry, and the pancakes looked too good. The pancakes shouldn't be poisoned or anything, anyway. Vlad had eaten one.

He scrambled up onto a chair, which was too short for him, and from there onto the table. He ate the first pancake quickly, with his fingers and without butter, and it was _so good._ Then he ate another, and another, and he started slowing down, feeling sleepy, like he did right after Thanksgiving dinner. He also started feeling thirsty. Chocolate chip pancakes needed milk.

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Vlad pulled his phone from his pocket and called one of his servants. A ghost servant, of course. He wasn't about to talk about this to a human.

"I need you to go buy a car seat, clothing, and toys that would suit a precocious five year old," he said, without preamble, as soon as the woman picked up and greeted him. "Bring the car seat to my chauffeur, and tell him to install it, then set up the toys and clothes in Daniel's room. Tell everyone to childproof the house, while you're at it," he added as an afterthought.

"Yes, sir," said the servant.

He hung up. He could hear Daniel humming as he ate. He had noticed the charming habit while watching the Fentons through the cameras he'd set up around the house.

After a while, the humming became sleepier, and sleepier, losing all semblance of a melody. Finally, it tapered off into a little, contented sigh. Vlad took that as his cue to return. He peeked around the corner and smiled as he saw Daniel sitting quietly at the table, blinking sleepily at the depleted pile of pancakes, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw the empty milk jug, accompanied by a tall, equally empty glass, sitting at Daniel's elbow.

That was where he had put the age shifting elixir. He had never intended for Daniel to have two doses of the stuff, much less how much had been mixed in the milk to make sure a single cup had the correct dosage.

Vlad forced down his panic. Higher dosages hadn't hurt any of the other subjects. He slowly walked into the room.

"Hello, Daniel," he said.

The boy started, but calmed quickly. He looked up at Vlad, blinking several times. He seemed to be having trouble focusing.

"Hi," Daniel chirped. He blinked again, then looked away and sleepily rubbed his eyes. "Thank you f'r the pancakes," he said. "They were tasty."

"You're quite welcome," said Vlad. He came closer. Daniel's eyes slipped farther closed. "How about we get you cleaned up?" he asked, delicately.

"Mf," said Daniel. He looked up again, and Vlad could see the gears turning behind his eyes. "'Kay," he said finally, although there was something deeply dubious in his tone.

Vlad picked Daniel up. The little ghost sighed, and snuggled close. Vlad felt his core thrill. This was as close to having his Obsession fulfilled as he had ever come.

"Wanna go t'bed."

"Of course, of course. You're all covered in chocolate, though," not to mention getting Vlad covered in chocolate, "and I do think you need a bath."

"'Kay," said Danny, dully.

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Vlad carried the sleeping child out to the car, and got him buckled into the newly-installed car seat, then climbed in after him. The driver shut the door. Well. That had been an ordeal. But... He smiled across at Daniel.

If such an ordeal was necessary for this kind of success, he would take the compromise every time.

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 **So, uh. This might be continued again at a later date. I hope this lived up to your expectations. :)**


	38. Chapter 38

**Hello! Yesterday, ffn decided not to show that I had updated, even though I did, so if you missed me yesterday, check out the previous chapter. Thank you for the reviews!**

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Solar

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"It's solar powered!" exclaimed Jack, proudly, happily, as he dropped a contraption consisting of nested, fused glass spheres on the kitchen table.

Danny cringed. He was glad his dad was happy, but he wasn't thrilled about this... whatever... being self-sustaining. Even now, with his parents knowing his secret, knowing that he was Phantom, and 'Danny-prooofing' everything, their inventions had a tendency to affect Danny strangely, and they often forgot about other friendly ghosts.

"That's great," said Danny, using the pretext of putting his cereal bowl in the sink to put some distance between himself and the machine. "What is it?"

Jack beamed. "It's the Fenton Ghost-Ghoster!"

Wow. Not only was that not a good name, it didn't sound like a good thing.

"Okay. So, uh, what does it do?"

"I'll show you!"

Danny's eyes went wide. "Wait, Dad, no-!"

It was like looking into the sun, but with his ghost sense.

His insides froze as his core went into overdrive, preparing itself to fight the threat. He couldn't breathe, and he only barely stopped himself from carrying through with his instinctive reaction.

(Which, incidentally, was to grab Jack, phase through the floor into the lab, push him and Maddie, who was still in the lab, into the Ghost Zone, manually trigger the house defenses and the citywide ecto-exodus alarm, come up, grab Jazz, _run-_ )

Because he knew that the signal his core was getting (big, incredibly, impossibly powerful, scary, angry, hostile ghost _nearby_ ) was coming from the little device on the table (which was none of those things). He just had to tell Jack to turn it off. This was proving more difficult than it normally would be, however, because although he had stopped himself from having a massive freakout, he was having a hard time finding a middle ground between that and paralyzed.

Distantly, he could hear his dad talking, and someone coming up the stairs behind him.

"Jack!" said Maddie, "turn that off! We haven't tested it yet!"

"But, Maddie-"

"Off! We haven't even asked Danny to identify the sample ectosignatures yet, and- Is that the highest setting? Jack!"

Jack hunched his shoulder. "Okay, okay, I'm turning it off," he mumbled.

Abruptly freed from the pressure of the machine's artificial ectosignature, Danny collapsed. It was then that his currently human body helpfully informed him that zero degrees Celsius was way too cold for his currently human body, and that his currently human body would really like a heartbeat and some oxygen, thank you very much.

It did this by passing out.

He woke up to warmth and rows of tiny orange lights. He squinted up at them.

"Is- is this the ecto-powered tanning bed?" asked Danny finally.

"Yes," said Maddie, sheepishly from somewhere outside of Danny's field of vision.

"Okay," said Danny, choosing not to comment further because he was the one thawing in it like a Thanksgiving Turkey bought at the last minute. "And what was that?"

"Er," said Jack, "it's an ectosignature generator. We, er, I was hoping we could use it to scare off some of the smaller ghosts by using a scary ectosignature! But, uh..."

Danny sighed, and rubbed his face. His skin was still frigid. "You've got it turned up way too high," he said. "It was like firing a machine gun right next to my ear. And then-" He broke off. Jazz said to be honest about these things. "I think I had a panic attack or something. If I was thinking I would have gone ghost. Sorry about," he gestured, even though he knew they couldn't see him, "this."

"It's not your fault, sweetheart."

"if it's any consolation, I don't think it would have worked long term to keep ghosts away. It wouldn't have acted like a ghost, and other things can give off ectosignatures."

"Ah. That's probably true."

Danny shifted. "Hey, could I go finish thawing out in the sun, or something? This is really boring."


	39. Chapter 39

**This is a continuation of chapter 35 (Wishes).**

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Sisters

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The negotiated wish had gone into effect smoothly, perfectly, without any sign of warping, or being a trap. Desiree had fully held up her end of the bargain. Danielle was now the Fenton family's newest (adopted) daughter.

Jazz was relieved. There were so many ways it could have gone wrong, so many ways to twist the wish. Jazz had argued against trying, citing all the other times things had gone wrong with Desiree's wishes, but Danny and Ellie had been insistent about trying. Danny had also, being who he was, fastened onto the idea that they could not only help Ellie, but Desiree. Jazz had been especially dubious about that, but he and Ellie had pulled it off.

An unfortunate side effect of that, however, was that Ellie was somewhat miffed at Jazz. She had interpreted Jazz's caution to mean that Jazz didn't want her as a sister, and had been avoiding her for the last week. This couldn't be further from the truth.

Today, Jazz had a plan to get past that.

She knocked on the door to Ellie's room (formerly the guest room).

"One second!" called Ellie, voice muffled. There was a little thump, and the the door opened. Ellie blinked up at Jazz. "Oh. Uh. Hi. What's up?"

Ellie was well on her way to eliminating the generic, unlived-in, 'guest room' look from her room. She'd been helped by the 'room-warming' gifts everyone had gotten her. Glow-in-the-dark stars and a collage of the pictures and postcards she'd sent Danny while traveling. Sam had supplied a number posters, as well as frilly black pillows, and an incredibly ugly doll (Ellie claimed it reminded her of Danny, and Jazz privately thoug by t it was cursed). Tucker had given her a laptop, one he had built himself. Jack and Maddie had provided ectoweapons ("Every Fenton has to have one!" Jack had said). Jazz's gift had been a box of books, and a journal with a sturdy lock.

"We're going shopping," said Jazz. "Get dressed."

"What?"

"We're going shopping. Mom and Dad are out installing ghost shields at the elementary school, and they've dragged Danny with them, so it's a good time."

"Um, but, why?"

"You need more clothes than my hand-me-downs and stuff you stole from Danny."

"It's not _stealing._ Just borrowing."

"We're meeting up with Sam," Jazz added.

"What about breakfast?"

Jazz, whose one major shortcoming was her inability to cook, shrugged. "We're eating out."

"Is that okay?" said Ellie, shouting back over her shoulder as she riffled through her new dresser and pulled out a pair of socks. She hopped out of the room trying to put them on.

"Danny and I used to do it all the time," said Jazz. "Before, well. You know. High school. You should brush your teeth, too."

"Why? We're going to eat."

"Yeah, but it'll feel better. Just trust me. I'll meet you downstairs."

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"So, where are we going to eat? The Nasty Burger?" asked Ellie as she buckled in.

"For breakfast?" said Jazz, mildly scandalized. "Gosh, no. We're going to Mizzy's." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ellie frown, and slump down in her seat. "They have great pancakes and waffles."

"Okay," said Ellie.

"It isn't far," said Jazz, "Sam will meet us there."

"Hm," said Ellie, looking out the window.

"It's on Tenth and Quetzalcoatl."

"Mm."

Ellie didn't add anything else. Jazz chewed on her lip.

"You know, I'm really glad we can do this," said Jazz.

"Are you?"

"I am. It'll be different with us sisters than with Danny."

Ellie gave Jazz a confused look. "Really?"

"Mhm," said Jazz. "Boys and girls talk about different things, and Danny was, er. Not younger. Less mature."

"And you, uhm. Want that. You didn't seem to, before."

Jazz bit her lip as she turned into the parking lot of the cafe. She didn't answer until she found a parking space.

"I sorry it looked that way, or sounded that way," said Jazz, looking directly at Ellie. "This outcome, you, being part of our family, I always wanted that, from the first time I met you. I was just worried that it might not work out, to go about it that way. Desiree's tricky. There were a lot of ways it could go wrong."

"But it didn't."

"Yes, and I am _so glad_ that it didn't. I really am so glad you're with me now."

Ellie looked away, then nodded. "Let's go," she said, opening the door. "Let's go get those pancakes."


	40. Chapter 40

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World Building

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Danny was bored and lonely. This wasn't a good combination for any teenage boy, much less one with access to physics-breaking superpowers and a host of ghostly mental issues. In his defense, he did _try_ to entertain himself. He really did. But his usual outlets weren't available, and hadn't been available for days.

His parents and sister were doing a college tour. Sam was visiting relatives in Europe. Tucker was away at summer camp. Valerie had gotten a summer job at a call center. Ghost activity was at a surprising low, probably because of the heat. He didn't even have any homework, since it was summer.

He had already cleaned the house, and done all his chores. Video games, pools, the mall, and wandering around town wasn't as fun by himself, especially with the risk of encountering Dash, or one of the other bullies he attracted like honey attracted flies. And the heat made him sluggish. Disinclined to explore the weirder, more ghostly parts of Amity, because those places didn't have any air conditioning.

However, not all of Danny's friends lived in Amity Park. Some of them didn't live at all.

Danny left a note explaining where he was going under Jazz's pillow. He didn't expect that she would ever read it, she and his parents were going to be gone for another two days, but, well. If he was in the Ghost Zone for that long, he wanted someone to know.

He went downstairs, and opened the portal, pocketing the remote, so he could open and close it from the other side. Then he went through.

Unfortunately, his friends among the ghosts were busy or missing, too. Apparently, July was some kind of romantic holiday in the Far Frozen, so Frostbite was on a trip with his spouse, as were many of the other yetis. Ember was away on tour. Wulf and Cujo were just not around. Sydney and Dora were on a date (which he was happy about). Pandora was busy with the minutiae of ruling her Realm. Technus was focused on some project (he was worse that Danny's parents, honestly; at least they came up for food, sometimes). Even Clockwork turned him away apologetically, as he was holed up with the Observants.

"Just remember," said Clockwork, sadly. "Everything is as it should be. Everything happens for a reason. Even bad things."

That wasn't prophetic or ominous at all, so Danny let it slide from his mind.

He sighed, heavy and a little depressed. He didn't mind being on his own, he needed space now and again, solitude, to gather his thoughts and let them roam. The problem was, he'd been mostly alone for a little too long, and it was wearing on him. Maybe it was partially his Obsession. He liked to be helpful, hence all the chores, but it was also... Just...

He was lonely. And bored.

But! But, he also liked exploring. He liked finding new places, seeing new things, meeting new people. (Hopefully people who liked him, of course. He would admit he'd become more cautious about that. He'd been rejected too many times not to be.)

It was something he'd often fantasized about, when he was younger. Being like a spaceship captain on TV. It had formed the backbone of his desire to be an astronaut, to be free of the confines of the Earth.

Well. The Ghost Zone had more in common with outer space than was immediately apparent to a casual observer. It had great gulfs of emptiness, floating islands, orbits, alien civilizations, distant and intriguing places.

He pulled out his map (which was essentially useless with how much stuff moved around, it was the thought that counted), and started off in a direction unfamiliar to him. He wasn't worried about getting home. Ghosts always knew how to get back to the place they had died. Danny's death had happened in the Fenton portal. Therefore, he always knew where the portal was.

He was in a part of the Zone that seemed to be populated largely by little islands covered in fir trees when he first saw them in the distance. They were a group of six, men and women, dressed in red and white. They were very visible against the dark swirling greens of the Zone.

One of them waved to him. He waved shyly back, keeping his distance, but watching. He had never seen a group like them before. They started to speak to one another, gesturing in his direction, and he drifted towards them. There was still enough space between them that he could run away if he wanted, but he could see them more clearly.

They wore long white and red fur coats, the colors sewn together in layers. The clothes beneath them were all red, as were their long, misty tails. Their faces were paper white, a little like Walker's, but they had all painted their lips red. Or maybe their lips were just naturally that color. Their hair, however, was black. A couple of them carried spears, but the rest looked unarmed, except for the large casks they carried on their backs, although that didn't really mean anything for ghosts. _Danny_ probably looked unarmed, for that matter, unless one of them recognized the thermos.

One of the women turned back towards Danny, and waved. "Hello there, traveler," she shouted, voice falling flat in the great distance.

Danny brightened. This was to be a polite interaction, then, not one where he would have to fight or run. "Hello!" he said.

"We would ask your destination!"

"I don't really have one, I'm just exploring!"

The six ghosts had another quick discussion. "We would invite you to return with us to the Glass City, our home. We enjoy hearing stories from travelers!"

Danny hesitated. This would probably take longer than he had really planned. On the other hand, he had plenty of time. "You won't hurt me?" he asked.

"We will let no harm befall you!"

"Promise?" said Danny, a touch of suspicion leaking into his tone. Not all ghosts were bound by their given word, but enough _were_ that breaking a promise was considered a serious breach.

"We give our word! Will you join us?"

Danny thought about it for another second, then nodded, and said, "Okay, I'm coming over!"

The ghosts were all rather large. Not as large as, say, Undergrowth, Nocturn, or Pandora, but on par with Frostbite. Danny was a little intimidated at first, regretting his decision, but the ghosts were friendly, smiling and laughing. They were very interested in Danny, but they were open to questions from him as well.

"What's in the barrels?" he asked.

"Nectar," said the leader, Kooskuhe. She was the one who had waved at him. "We harvest it from flowers across the Zone. We make it into lots of different things. Food, drinks, potions, medicines... It largely depends on what kind of flower we get it from. Sometimes we trade those with other communities."

"What kind of potions?" asked Danny.

"Oh, lots of kinds," said Kooskuhe.

One of the others laughed. "Kooskuhe, that's not an answer." She grinned, sharply. "There's a potion we make sometimes that can give a person wings. There's one that will make your skin a different color, and one that can make even cold core ghosts like you immune to fire."

"How do you know that I have a cold core?" asked Danny, eyebrows going down. That was suspicious.

"The temperature dropped when you came near," explained one of them. "We're very sensitive to temperature changes."

Danny nodded. Alright, that made sense.

They talked about why Danny was exploring, then, and the City the ghosts came from. Danny found it fascinating. He hadn't encountered a lot of large ghost communities. Just the Far Frozen, Dora's kingdom, and Elysium. This City of Glass sounded larger, though, more populous. Kooskuhe spoke of hundreds of ghosts, of a complex system of commerce.

It made sense, actually. Danny knew that the Fenton portal came out in the Wastes, an area of the Ghost Zone that had been devastated by Pariah Dark and had never recovered. They were already much farther from the center of the Wastes than he usually went, and they were going further. Ergo, it would be an area that was less affected.

The City looked like a glittering snowball when her first saw it. Beautiful and sparkling.

"We're glad you like it," said Kooskuhe.

Danny blushed. He hadn't realized he had spoken out loud.

As they grew closer, the sphere resolved into large hexagonal crystal panes. But there was a flaw, a crack that bisected several panes and caught the light in a green shimmer.

"What made the crack?" he asked.

"Pariah Dark," said Kooskuhe, scowling. The others grew grim, brows furrowing. "We stood against him, during the War of the Ancients. I myself was part of our army. Many were destroyed."

"I'm sorry," said Danny.

"It was long ago. We are recovering." Then the large ghost smiled. "We prefer to look at the beauty, rather than the flaws."

Danny nodded. He didn't want to offend his host, and it made sense.

The sphere grew as they got closer. It was big, really big. It reminded Danny a little of a space station, or- oh!- A Dyson Sphere! Yeah, those were cool. It was much smaller than a Dyson sphere would be, though. Danny began to see past the glass. There was greenery inside the sphere.

"It's like a greenhouse," he said.

"Yes. We are very proud of our gardens."

They approached a small opening in the sphere, a place where a pane of was missing. The edges of the hole were silver, and decorated with sculpture. It was like a giant gate, an elaborate entryway, like might be found on an ancient city. Which this was, if he thought about it.

But Danny noticed something else as they got closer. There was... more time here. Clockwork had been teaching him how to sense the way time stretched, wrinkled and warped in the Ghost Zone. There was definitely more time here.

"You have more time here," said Danny, not seeing why he shouldn't.

"You noticed that?" asked Kooskuhe, sounding pleased.

"Did you do it on purpose?"

"We did."

"How?"

Kooskuhe smiled. "We have our ways."

There were guards at the gateway, ghosts even bigger than the ones Danny was with, all carrying striped spears. They waved, Danny waved hesitantly back.

Inside the sphere was a floating garden. Knots of flowering plants either drifted free, or were tied into larger structures with vines. The flowers were fantastic, colorful, vivid, in some cases, glowing. Some were huge, easily big enough to swallow Danny whole, if he should fall in, others were tiny, little larger than pinheads. Some were fancy, many-layered, others had simple, clean lines. There were flowers he recognized, and those he did not. In the few places clear of plants, there were large, sun-like lights, or odd, unsupported waterfalls. The air was sweet and thick with the scent of flowers, almost like wine. It buzzed, it hummed. There were bees somewhere.

People flew through the air, tending to the plants. They weren't all wearing the same things as Danny's chaperones, but they kept to the theme of white, red, and stripes, and they all had tails. Most of them wore what looked like thick, striped gardening gloves.

Every place in the Ghost Zone had it's own ectoplasmic 'music.' Not really a sound, but a unique signal, not unlike a ghost's ectosignature. Danny could only really describe it in English by relying on synesthesia. This one was melody overlaid with melody. A deep thrum, a buzz, a higher hum, something like bells, and the sound of fingers being rubbed along the rims of wine glasses.

It was also, Danny was discovering, very hot and humid. He should have expected as much, he'd been in greenhouses before. But this atmosphere was more jungle-like. More oppressive. That wouldn't have mattered so much, he usually had good internal temperature control, but he was trying to control his core's reaction, keep the cold in. He didn't want to freeze any of his hosts' carefully cultivated plants. It was wearing on him. How hot was it in here?

"I'm sorry," he said, after toughing it out for another few minutes. "I think I maybe, um. I'm overheating." That wasn't strictly accurate. His core was in overdrive, so he was freezing on the inside, and melting on the outside. "If it's like this all the way down, I might have to go back. Sorry."

"Oh, dear," said Kooskuhe, stopping, and putting her hand on Danny's head, as if checking his temperature. "That's right, you have a cold core." She turned to one of the other ghosts. "This much be quite uncomfortable for you."

"We're almost there, actually," said another of the ghosts. "Just a little farther, past this last garden."

"Okay," said Danny. He really was uncomfortable at this point, but if they insisted on going on, Danny wasn't sure he could find his way back to the gate on his own. His ghostly internal compass only worked in straight lines.

They broke through a final layer of greenery, and Danny saw that there was a second sphere of glass inside the first, this one made of colored glass. It was striking. Beautiful.

They flew through another gate, and touched down on a smooth glass surface. It was much cooler here, the light dimmer, the colors richer, redder, more varied. This seemed to be the 'city' part of the city. Danny felt a lot better. He looked up at the 'sky.' It looked like a giant stained-glass window. He took a moment to look around. The buildings were all hexagonal, and some of them were visible as shadows stretching down beneath the glass road.

"Wow," said Danny.

"Striking, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Let us bring you to the palace. It is much more impressive."

"Where is it?"

"Another layer down," said Kooskuhe.

"There are lots of layers," observed Danny.

"There are enough."

They went to a large, ruffled-looking building, and flew down a glass tube that went through the middle. It was cooler again, down here, and there was, once again, more time. There were flowers, again, decorating the hexagonal halls. They had rich, vibrant colors, and dark, glossy leaves. All the light came down from above, or from the ghostly glow of the plants and ghosts, so it was dim, but not unbearably so.

"Mibihwi," said Kooskuhe, speaking to one of the other ghosts, "go ahead and tell the nobles about our guest. Midochoch, put the barrels away, please."

The other ghost nodded, and vanished into the glass maze, his form refracting between the panes. Danny was now wondering if this, if coming here, was a good idea after all. He was starting to feel a little out of place, a little trapped. He was still curious, and he didn't want to be impolite, but he was definitely uncomfortable. He wondered if he had inadvertently gotten himself into a bad situation. It wouldn't be the first time. Clockwork's not-quite-warning was also weighing on her.

"Is there anything you need, while we wait?" asked Kooskuhe, solicitously. "A drink, perhaps?"

"I'm fine," said Danny, shifting nervously. Though they were clearly in a waiting area, there weren't any chairs. He supposed that ghosts who used their tails all the time and floated everywhere wouldn't necessarily need them.

"Are you sure?"

Danny nodded, and rubbed the back of his neck. It might have been nice to have a drink of water after going through the hot garden, but his social anxiety, and his worry about whether or not coming was a good idea, was getting the best of him. So he just floated in the room, feeling awkward and small alongside the four larger ghosts.

Then Mibihwi came back, smiling, in the company of several other large ghosts, these in elaborate red and white armor. "They're ready for you, and very excited," she said. "You're just in time for dinner."

Danny smiled shakily. "Oh, I don't want to bother them if they're busy eating," he said, suddenly struck by a vision of being on the menu.

"Nonsense," said Kooskuhe, "you'll be the guest of honor."

"Um," said Danny, uncertainly. "Okay," he said, letting the ghosts herd him on. They hadn't done anything to _deserve_ his suspicion.

They came to another downward shaft, and dropped through it. Danny blinked several time, when they reached the bottom. Above, things were bright and colorful, but ultimately simple, clean, clear. There were few embellishments in the upper city. Here was a different story. It was like walking into fairyland. There were swirls, glitter, sparkles, filigree in metal, bright lights, rainbow colored silks, beads, and bells. There were chairs here, and couches, lined in gems and made up like thrones, but with thick, soft-looking cushions. Toys laid on some of them, dolls and little wooden carts. Danny spotted one toy in a corner. There were little tables, too, at the ends of the couches. There were books set on them.

Danny was... confused.

They went on, through a curtained doorway, into a larger room. There were people there, perhaps thirty or so. About a third of that number were guards, much like the ones who had come to fetch them. The rest were sitting around a large, round table, and must have been the 'nobles' the others had been talking about. They looked _completely_ different from the ghosts Danny had seen in the city so far. They were much smaller, more compact. The largest was only the size of Danny's mother, and only three of them looked like adults. The others were closer to Danny's age, or younger. Danny had never seen so many child ghosts in the same place at once.

Their clothing was different, too, more in line with the silks hung on the walls. The colors they wore were bright, the cuts somewhere between flamboyant and elegant. The patterns reminded him of butterfly wings.

Speaking of wings, they had them. Wings. Which was somewhat redundant for ghosts, who could fly. They were big, and colorful, like a butterfly's, but otherwise moth-like, easily folded back, which was why Danny hadn't noticed them at first. He had thought they were cloaks.

Their skin was porcelain-smooth, but many different colors. Oddly, those colors included flesh tones, which was unusual among ghosts. Their eyes were big, making even the ones who were Danny's size and larger seem especially childlike.

For a final set of differences, the nobles had legs _and_ tails. Not ghostly tails, but actual tails, little devil tails, like one would find in a Halloween costume, with barbs on the end. Their feet were bare.

Danny was... more confused. And a little flustered. They were all looking at him.

"Hi?" he said, giving a little wave.

There was an explosion of excitement. As the others had said, they were _very, very_ interested in Danny, and any stories he had to tell. It wasn't long before Danny was seated at the table, food and drink in front of him, stumbling over the beginning of a story.

The food was quite sweet, as were the drinks. Danny had to wonder if he had come in during dessert, but that turned out not to be the case. They went through three more courses as Danny told his stories, each one more sugary than the last. Danny drank a lot. By the end, he was feeling quite jittery, and his storytelling had grown very enthusiastic, incorporating exclamations and wild, expansive gestures.

The children loved it. The younger ones, who looked like they were about seven or so, but were probably much older, dragged Danny off to a playroom. The ones who looked more like teenagers followed at a more sedate pace, with the adults coming last.

They wanted to know more, more, _more._

(Danny had quite forgotten his earlier misgivings.)

"What did you do?" asked one little girl, bouncing, tail lashing and wings flared slightly. "How'd you get away?"

Danny had kept to his softer stories, the funnier ones, the less scary ones. Right now he was telling them about the Christmas incident, when Ghost Writer had trapped him in a poem. He had gotten to the point where Ghost Writer had animated the Christmas trees to attack him.

"Well, I took a deep breath, and I used my ghostly wail! Ooooohoooh."

The ghost giggled, and Danny took the opportunity to make a tickle attack. This provoked a retaliation, and soon all the children were sprawled in a ticklish pile. It took a long time to finish the story. There were a lot of opportunities.

Danny was having fun, but he was also getting tired. Entertaining his hosts had worn him out. More time or not, he had to start thinking about leaving.

"Can you tell us another?" asked one of the older children.

"I don't know," said Danny, rubbing the back of his neck, "it's getting kind of late."

"Please," chimed the younger children, the smallest of them grabbing on to him.

Danny looked up for help from the adults.

"It may be late here," said the eldest, a woman with long, honey-colored hair, "but it will not be late outside. It should have only been an hour or so since you came in."

"Still," said Danny.

"If you are tired, you can spend the night here. We have more than enough room. Then you can tell another story over breakfast."

"I don't know..."

" _Please_ ," said the children, the older ones as well, this time.

Danny felt his resolve crumple under the pressure from his new friends. "Okay," he said.

The woman smiled, clapping her hands together. "It _is_ getting to be time for bed, though, so let's get ready."

The children groaned, but nodded, and scampered off, the little silver bells attached to their ankles jingling. Danny froze, wondering if he should follow them.

The woman waved forward one of the larger ghosts. "Ooko will show you to your room, and get you situated."

"Thank you," said Danny.

The woman (the servant) took Danny down a bewildering series of corridors to a nice, richly appointed little room with an attached bathroom. The bathroom was a little odd, but the Ghost Zone took all sorts. Ooko brought him toiletries, a set of pajamas, and a glass of milk.

"Is that really milk?" asked Danny, coming out of the bathroom and doing up the last buttons on the pajamas.

"Yes, warm milk, with a little honey. We give it to all the children," said Ooko, holding the glass on a little plate. "It helps them sleep. We thought you might need it."

Danny _was_ feeling a little... wired. Jumpy, from all the sugar, and from being in an unfamiliar place. Still, he wasn't sure if drinking _more_ sugar would be any help, and he had never had warm milk as a drink before. It sounded like something only really little kids would have. On the other hand, the ghosts had gone out of the way to make this for him. He took the glass.

He tasted it first, testing it with the tip of his tongue. It was sweet, but the sweetness was mild, and it tasted rather soothing. He tipped the glass back, drinking the milk. It did make him feel sleepier. Like, a lot sleepier. He tipped over, almost tumbling to the floor, before Ooko caught him. He made a small confused sound. He hadn't been that tired, had he?

"There we go," she murmured.

Danny slipped into dreams.

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 **To be continued in 'Confined' (day 13 of Phanniemay).**


	41. Chapter 41

**This is a follow up to chapters 23, 24, and 27 (Wardrobe, AU/Paparazzi, and Exposed, respectively). It is set in the Real HAZMAT AU.**

 **Also, it appears that the fic that inspired these is Masks by in_the_ghost_mode on ao3. Go check it out! A belated thanks to EtherealTulip as well!**

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Favorite AU

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Danny's eyes went wide, and he took a small, shuffling step back. "What? What extracurriculars? I don't have any extracurriculars, Mr Lancer."

The teacher gazed flatly at Danny. Danny swallowed. The closet-like office felt even more airless than usual, and had someone turned up the heat?

"I read a lot," said Mr Lancer.

Danny laughed. That would make him look relaxed, right? No? "Well, yeah, you teach English."

Mr Lancer didn't look amused. "I read more than just the classics. I read novels. Fantasy. Science fiction." He paused. "I read comic books. Ghost stories, too."

Danny was quite sure Mr Lancer could hear his heartbeat. He could hear Mr Lancer's. What did Mr Lancer have to be nervous about?

"Okay?" squeaked Danny.

"Mr Fenton, I have my flaws as an educator and a human being, but I can recognize the face of one of my students on the front page of the paper. I can put two and two together."

"I'm not in the paper, though," said Danny, desperately.

"Mr Fenton- Danny. You're not in trouble." Mr Lancer's hands were curled tightly around one another, his fingers turning interesting colors. "I'm certainly not going to tell anyone else."

"You- You're not?"

"Goodness, no. As I said, I read a lot, and I can imagine what might happen if I did." Both of them shuddered. "But what you're doing- It's dangerous, and it's disrupting the rest of your... life. Your schoolwork in particular. I don't know how important that will be to you in your future, but..." He trailed off as Danny looked down.

"It's important to me," said Danny.

"We can work something out, " said Mr Lancer. "At least with English. Your other teachers... I don't know."

"So you... Don't want me to stop?"

"Of course I want you to stop, what you're doing is very dangerous. You shouldn't have to fight monsters. But there isn't any way I can stop you."

"It isn't that dangerous," said Danny, still not meeting Mr Lancer's eyes, "not anymore, not for me. And someone has to do it."

"I think I understand," said Mr Lancer. His smile was thin and strained. "As I said, I read comics. Just, I need to ask, your parents-"

"They don't know," Danny said quickly.

Lancer laughed. Well. Scoffed. "That's obvious. No what I needed to ask was, did your parents... cause... this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did they- Did they cause your death?"

"It's really rude to ask about that, you know."

"Danny, please. If something they did killed you..."

"It didn't. I... died doing something they specifically told me not to do."

The warning bell rang. Mr Lancer made no move to get up.

"I, um, think that class is about to start," said Danny, awkwardly. He wanted to escape.

"Right," said Mr Lancer. "Right." He nodded to himself. "Right."

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"It was really weird," said Danny, leaning over the lunch table to talk to Sam and Tucker. "But, like, he really _doesn't_ seem like he's going to tell."

Sam nodded. "That's good. If he's helping, that'll help with your grades, right?"

"Yeah. It should. Sam, are your parents going to be home tonight?"

"No. Why? You want to come over?"

"Because I want to show you guys something, and I don't want to worry about Mom and Dad. Tucker, can you make it?"

"Yeah. Hey, by something, do you mean _the_ thing?"

Danny fiddled with his spork. "Yeah. I know. It's a bit anticlimactic after the, uh. Pictures in the paper. But... Yeah."

"No, we get it," reassured Tucker.

"Those pics in the paper aren't all that great, anyway. Is Jazz coming too?"

"I haven't asked her yet. She hasn't really pushed it, you know?" Danny sighed. He really appreciated that.

"Right. So," said Tucker, drawing out the word. "How many dollar bills should I bring?"

"What?"

"You see, I've never been to a strip show before, and I want to make-"

Danny blushed furiously, and flicked a pea at his friend. Tucker stuck out his tongue.

"I'm not _stripping_ ," protested Danny. "I'll be fully clothed the whole time."

"Leave him alone, Tuck," said Sam, rolling her eyes. "You guys want pizza? What kind?"

"You don't have to," said Danny.

"I want to. I'm guessing murder pizza with extra murder for Tucker, and you'll want a supreme?"

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Four teens sprawled in front of the giant TV in Sam's basement. They had started watching cartoons. No one had directly mentioned what Danny had gathered them for. Not yet. They didn't want to rush him, force him. He was clearly pretty nervous about the whole thing, nervous enough that he had almost completely destroyed the hem of his shirt by fiddling with it.

"Okay," said Danny, suddenly, "standing up. Okay, I'm ready, I'm going to do the thing."

"It's alright if you don't want to," said Jazz.

"No, I'm doing it." He walked a short distance away, so his transformation rings wouldn't sweep over the others. It didn't hurt when they did, but apparently it felt weird. Unsettling. "I'm going ghost!"

The rings passed over him, bringing the HAZMAT suit and its many layers with them. God, he hadn't really thought about how long this was going to take. Should he start with the tape at the wrists again, or with the hood? He started picking at the tape.

"Hey," said Sam, "do you want help?"

"Yeah, we helped you get into it in the first place, so it's only fair. And a lot less awkward."

Danny hesitated, thinking. "Okay," he said, voice muffled and buzzing through the gas mask. "sure. That sounds good."

"Where would you like us to start?"

Taking off the suit went a lot faster with all four of them working on it. Jazz did get a little spooked when the first outer glove started to sublimate in her hand, but, otherwise, it went smoothly.

He chose to leave on the inner, spandex layer, and took off the gas mask himself. He looked up at his friends and sister. "Ta da?" he said, smiling uncertainly.

Tucker, at least, looked as relieved as Danny had felt that first time. Danny wondered if Tucker had harbored the same fears he did. If was worried that Danny would be disfigured, or worse.

Sam narrowed her eyes. "You have fangs," she said.

Danny's hands went up to her mouth, covering up his aberrant dentition. "Y-yeah."

"I'm jealous."

"Actually," said Jazz, "I think you mean that you're envious. If you say jealous-"

"I know what I said."

"So," interrupted Danny. "What do you guys think?" Jeez, he sounded like he was showing off a new outfit. Which he kind of was.

"I think you look cute," said Jazz, fluffing Danny's hair.

Danny ducked out from under Jazz's hand and glared. His glare softened, however, when he saw she was staring at her hand. "What's wrong?" he asked. If his hair was poisonous, or something...

"Nothing," said Jazz. "You're just cold. I didn't expect that."

Danny shrugged. "I _am_ a ghost."

"I know, it just surprised me."

"But you guys don't think I look, you know..."

"Well," said Tucker, "you sort of look like a vampire elf, but chicks dig that."

"Yeah, just like someday they'll dig a hole in the woods to bury your body," said Sam, rolling her eyes. "You look fine, Danny." She poked his face. "You are sorta cold, though."

A thought crossed Danny's mind, and he grinned. "So, you think I'm cool?"


	42. Chapter 42

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Redesign

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"Sweetheart?" called Maddie down the stairs, wrapping her robe close around her. "What are you doing?" She had just finished settling Jazz back down after a nightmare. One and a half was a difficult age.

During that time, Jack had wound up down in the lab.

She started down the stairs, wincing at the cold under her bare feet. She really should have gone to find her shoes. "Jack? Sweetie?"

"Mads!" exclaimed Jack (who was in his pajamas). He leaped up from the tiny chair he was sitting in (Maddie made a mental note to buy larger ones). "I've done it!"

"Done what?" asked Maddie.

"Figured out the portal!" He gestured excitedly at the papers scattered across the table in front of him. "It just came to me, while I was waiting for you to come back!"

"Jack," said Maddie, just a little repressively. "We said we would look into other avenues of study after what happened to Vlad. Portals just aren't safe."

"Yeah, but this would _make_ it safe!" said Jack, bouncing. "The problem was ectoplasm overflow, right? And ecto-impurities?"

Those were some of the problems they had theorized, yes. But they were far from the only ones. "Jack..."

"Maddie, please, just look at what I've done. Look, the increased size would contain the overflow. Then, we use a multi-stage ecto-filter..."

Maddie glanced at the paper, intending to remind Jack once again of their resolution. But then she looked closer. And closer. Closer. She picked up one of the papers.

"Jack," she said, "this could work. This could really work." She looked up at him. "Jack, this is brilliant!"

Jack smiled broadly. "Really?"

Maddie hugged him. "You're brilliant!"

"News to me! So, we can do it?""

"Yes! Yes! Of course we'll have to modify these, run tests... make the equipment... generate the ectoplasm... make a bigger ectoplasm-still... redesign some parts... But, yes! We'll do it! It'll take time, but we'll do it!"


	43. Chapter 43

**Warning: OCs and headcannons ahead.**

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Crossover

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Danny's familiarity with Amity Park was supernatural in depth and degree, so he knew, as soon as he opened his eyes, he was in South Mercy Hospital. He was in South Mercy Hospital, only they had their ceilings patterned like this. But something was wrong.

(Several things were wrong. Grief laid over him like a shroud. It just hadn't sunk in yet.)

Sound bled back into the world slowly, although the edges of his vision were still grayed out and fuzzy. Beeping. Sirens. Squeaky wheels. Footsteps. Running. Yelling. Lots of yelling. It was loud. It usually wasn't this loud in the hospital, not unless there was an emergency. Was there an emergency? If there was an emergency, he should get up. He shouldn't be laying down when there was an emergency.

(A vague memory came back to him of fighting to exhaustion, to unconsciousness. He shook it off.)

He lifted his head to look down his body. He was on a gurney in the hallway. People were running around, almost every other one covered in blood. Something bad had happened. Something really bad.

(But he already knew that, didn't he?)

Something that bad might still be going on. He needed to get up, to help. He couldn't let this go on, couldn't let his injuries get in the way of making sure his people were safe. He reached for the IV. He didn't like needles in the best of times.

"Time out."

The silence was so sudden, that it was more disorienting than the noise that had preceded it.

A gloved hand rested on top of his, preventing him from reaching the IV. He stared at it, counting the watches, then let his eyes drift up the purple-clad arm. "Clockwork?" he asked, voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible, like he had been using his Ghostly Wail over and over again. His core hurt, too, now that he thought about it. "What's happening?"

Clockwork, it should be noted, rarely wore a readable expression. But now, as he rubbed a circle into the back of Danny's hand, his expression looked far too close to pity, to sorrow.

"Clockwork?" what was left of his voice wavered and broke.

"I'm so sorry, Daniel," Clockwork said.

"What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

Danny let his head flop from side to side, ignoring the pain in his head and neck. "I don't remember anything," he said (lied). "I don't-" He gasped, tears stinging the edges of his eyes. "I _don't._ "

Clockwork raised his hand, and brushed a tear from Danny's cheek, then moved his hand to touch Danny's forehead. At once, the fog of confusion was dispelled, his mind was crystal clear and sharp as glass. He remembered. He remembered all of it.

(He remembered feeling, knowing, something was wrong, and flying to the edge of town. Dozens of people were there, walking in on foot, dressed in black robes and hoods, and silver masks. The sense of wrongness came from them. They didn't feel like ghosts, but they didn't feel like normal humans, either. Danny remembers hovering in the air, waiting, watching, in the distance. People, his people, were staring, whispering, watching. This was odd, even for Amity Park. A woman, her small child standing next to her, raised a camera to take a picture. There was a movement from the robed crowd, and a flash of green light. Before Danny could act, the woman crumpled, dead. Danny had fought, then, furious. None of the ghosts, none of his other enemies, had _dared._ He had fought, but those, there, hadn't been the only ones. Danny could only be in so many places at once, and each death, each person he _failed,_ was a knife to his core.)

(But he was not the only one to defend Amity Park. Police, firefighters, everyone who owned a gun, or a knife, or an ectoweapon, or a walking stick, and the gentle dead, all rose up to defend their home. A mob armed with little more than their fists came together to protect the schools. Amity Park had been invaded before, and they would not quietly suffer through it again.)

"No," he said, struggling into a sitting position. " _Why?_ Why did this- Why didn't you _warn_ me?"

Clockwork's face twisted. "There are circumstances in which I am allowed to act, and those in which I am not." There was pain in his voice.

"But- You- Is it because they weren't ghosts? Is that why?" The question rang in the silence.

Clockwork sighed. "Partially."

Danny closed his eyes, and dug the heels of his hands into his eyelids. "This- This can't be-" He took a long, shuddering breath. It was happening, though. He had seen it. He had fought it. But he hadn't seen- "Sam and Tucker? Jazz? Are they-?" He couldn't even say the words.

"They are fine."

Relief flooded through him. There was a small corner of him that felt guilty for feeling relieved, for caring so much more about the people close to him than all the others who had died, but he had at least one bright spot. He couldn't let go of that. He couldn't.

(He would self-destruct, otherwise.)

"Mom and Dad..." He didn't finish the sentence, didn't look up.

"I'm sorry, Daniel." He paused, hand on Danny's shoulder.

Danny finally looked up. "Are the- whoever they are, are they gone?"

"For now, yes."

"For now? But- Are they going to come back?" His eyes were wide with horror. They couldn't come back. Danny had been able to fight them this time, but, considering that he had wound up in the hospital, and he could feel (deep inside, his core screaming) how many of his people were dead, he clearly hadn't done a very good job. There had just been too many of them, and while they hadn't been ghosts, they had powers, a wide variety of them.

"They may try," admitted Clockwork.

"What even were they?" he asked.

"Wizards."

"Wizards?"

"Yes," said a new voice.

Danny started as four other figures faded into view. Pandora, Ancient Master of Hope, in her smaller form, all four blue hands clenched in fists. Fright Knight, Ancient Master of Fear, dark armor gleaming, fiery cape billowing dramatically in the stillness of stopped time. Nocturne, Ancient Master of Dreams, horned mask tilted back to show his true face, patterns of stars gleaming all over his body. Lady Nephthys, Ancient Master of Death, of transformation and change, Lady of Doors, clad in silver robes and veil, hair wild and expression dark. She was the one who had spoken.

"Wizards," said Nephthys, voice bitter. "We and they have long had our _differences,"_ she spat the word. "We have a _history."_

Danny flinched. He had never seen Nephthys so angry. Her expression softened to something almost like shame.

"Oh, little one," said Pandora. "We are sorry, for giving you this, after such a tragedy, after so many have left you." She leaned closer, and put one her hands on Danny's other shoulder, to match Clockwork's. "But what if I tell you, there is a way we can make sure they won't attack Amity Park again?"

"There is?" asked Danny, desperately hopeful.

"We will protect your home," proclaimed Fright Knight.

"You will?" Danny was confused. It wasn't like the Ancients, to make offers like that.

"You will have to do something for us, though," said Nocturn, sleepily.

"Several somethings, in fact," said Clockwork, "dangerous things, that will take you far from Amity Park. But for as long as you're gone, as long as you strive to complete the goals we set you, we will protect Amity Park and its citizens. It will be a contract, between you and us."

It was too good of a bargain. The Ancients, the most powerful ghosts Danny knew, save Pariah Dark, keeping Amity Park safe? He had to take it.

His hand crept up to seize the edge of Clockwork's cloak. "I'll do it," he said. "Please. What do I need to do?"

"To explain," said Nephthys, "for you to understand, first we must tell you a story."

"Several stories," said Clockwork.

"Brother," said Nephthys.

"Sister," said Clockwork, dryly. He sat down on the bed next to Danny. "When you hear these, I want you to keep an open mind and remember that every story has two sides."

"I will," promised Danny, nodding furiously.

"Careful," said Pandora, cupping the back of Danny's head. "You don't want to hurt yourself. Lay back down."

Nephthys began to speak.

.

We have known of wizards, witches, and their kind of magic for a long, long time. I suspect that only my brother truly knows when we first encountered them. The woman you know as Desiree was one of them, in life. We were not surprised by them. They were only one more addition to the infinite variety of life and death. You've seen what the Infinite Realms are like, how varied the powers of ghosts are.

Our encounters were as you might expect between two supernaturally powerful alien cultures without regular, guaranteed contact. Some went well. Some went poorly. For the most part, we ghosts treated the wizards as we did the rest of the living. We ignored them. The wizards, on the other hand, did not do the same for us.

Knowing that we existed fascinated them. We had powers they could only dream of, and we were immortal besides. The dead, who had 'conquered' me, fascinated them further. I, personally, terrified them. Wizards had great power in life, but power in life does not translate to power in death, to power, or even existence, as a ghost. Little frightens those who have power more than loosing that power.

They created spells and tools to summon, bind, and enslave ghosts. You fell victim to one of these, the Crystal of Order. But ghosts do such things among themselves as well, and there were very few wizards who could accomplish such feats. Few ghosts, therefore, cared, or even knew. Those who did fought the wizards, but their conflicts were feuds between individuals, at best.

Then, the wizards did something all ghosts noticed, something largely considered unforgivable.

They had cast a spell on their race that changed the nature of their deaths. If a witch or wizard died, they could become a ghost by fear alone, without any deeper purpose or passion, and, worse, they could trap fragments of themselves in _paintings,_ of all things. Do not ask me how they did this, I do not rightly know. It was an abomination, salved only by the fact that they had not cursed all of humanity that way, keeping them from passing on as they should. Though that, too, was caused by hubris, by the belief that they were better than all others, especially those without magic.

We confronted those who had done it, but they destroyed their work, their records, so we could not undo it. All I could do was close the Infinite Realms to those who took advantage of the spell, and to all living wizards. This was not a decision made lightly. Without contact with the Realms, their ghosts were little more than shades, without access to even the meanest of powers, without the ability to touch anything of the world they trapped themselves in, or to even be seen by those insensitive to the magic that made them.

There was war, then, a great and subtle one that echoes in myths and legends even now. Pariah Dark came to power during that war, leading his armies, freeing ghosts, destroying the works of witches and wizards.

But the war ended, eventually, and was forgotten. Both sides returned to their old habits. Most wizards were not eager to spend their afterlives powerless, so few made the choice to remain. We ghosts, as you know, were having our own issues with Pariah Dark.

When that war ended, and we had forced Pariah Dark into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, we found that the wizards had created something even more foul. A way to fragment, and anchor their souls to objects, and even living things, and thereby remain among the living long enough to create or steal new bodies. Soul jars. But we did not wish to plunge the Realms into another war. We destroyed the one who had created the first ourselves, and after that, Clockwork arranged for the deaths of any who followed in his footsteps.

("Prophecies," said Clockwork, helpfully, "not all magical folk were evil, and I made bargains with a few, gave them lasting gifts.")

Things were quiet for some time. Our avoidance of wizardkind, our isolation from them, helped that, as did the wizards' gradual retreat into secrecy. But we were not entirely forgotten.

There were three wizards, brothers, who, much like your parents, desired to make a door to the Realms. Unlike you, or Vladimir, however, they opened it without sacrifice. It was broken from the moment it was made.

I was furious, of course, and appeared to strike them down for the unending arrogance of their kind, not satisfied that their flawed portal would do it for me. But then I realized, these men were born long after the conflicts that had ravaged our peoples. They knew only those ghosts who had bound themselves to the earth, and a rare few poltergeists. They were ignorant, and curious, but innocent of the crimes of their forefathers. What kind of person would I be, to visit vengeance on them for an error they did not know they were making?

I resolved to teach them, then, and, with hope, thereby transform the relations between our peoples. They were eager students, and, for the first time, there were cordial relations between ghosts and wizardkind. We, too, were eager for an end to our animosity, for a bright spot to bloom in the dark age caused by Pariah's last war and fall. Pandora, especially, encouraged us, as was and is her calling. Contact spread beyond us, beyond the brothers. It was tentative, yes, and often secretive, but it was good. I relaxed my ban on living wizards visiting the Realms, provided that they were invited. We gave them gifts, and gifts were returned to us.

I began to care for the brothers. To love them, even. They were clever, and charismatic. Easy to love, I suppose.

Yet, I was betrayed. The first of the brothers cut down a tree from my garden, and with knowledge I had granted him, fashioned a wand. The second brother stole a gem from my veil, and altered it so that he could use it to call forth any soul who passed. I set a curse on both, that the wand and stone should cause the doom of whomever should use them.

Both of them died. The youngest was frightened, and fled. I had taught him how to weave cloth like mine, how to imbue it with a ghost's invisibility, even gifted him string for the purpose, and he put that knowledge to good use. I did not see him again until he died and passed on.

There was distrust, then, resentment, and fear. Fear of another war, fear of enslavement, fear of exposure. We did not desire another war, so we gathered their leaders, and together we signed a treaty. In short, we would expose them to no living soul, and refrain from interacting with them, they would destroy all record of us, and police their own people when it came to the sanctity of death and the soul.

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"There were a few other clauses, of course," said Nephthys, coming to an end, "and we will teach you the treaty in detail, later, but that was the general idea. As far as we are concerned, they have broken the treaty."

"Several times," said Clockwork, "in several ways."

"So, what do you need me to do?" asked Danny.

"We need you to be our envoy, our mouthpiece," said Pandora. "It is possible that they have merely forgotten their obligations, or are unaware of what their people are doing, in which case, a reminder will hopefully change their ways."

"But if not," said Fright Knight, "you are to be our enforcer, rectifying the improprieties!"

"Okay," said Danny, "but, how? What improprieties? And the ones who attacked us, how are they related?"

"Tell me, Daniel," said Clockwork, a very thin smile on his face, "have you ever considered studying overseas?"

"What?"

"Your usual obscurity is not called for in this situation, brother."

Clockwork sighed. "The wizards have governments. They have noticed this. They will send agents here before too long, to cover up what has happened. It won't work, of course. While they are doing this, they will notice that you, and several others who live here, have the potential to work magic. Due to various reasons that boil down to prejudice, they will insist that you attend a school for magic that is located in Scotland. This will eventually put you in position to speak to one of the leaders of what they call Wizarding Britain, acquire the wand and stone, help destroy a number of soul jars, and complete other tasks that we will set you."

"Wait, that _I_ have the potential to work magic?"

Another very thin smile. "You're a wizard, Danny."


	44. Chapter 44

**A continuation of chapter 40 (worldbuilding). Also, I maybe might have gotten carried away with the purple prose. Tell me what you think!**

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Confined

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Danny was dreaming. He knew that. He didn't feel like this when he was awake, and when he was awake, he usually wasn't being carried around by giants who kept giving him things to drink. He could also usually focus on things when he was awake. Not being able to do so was a (he giggled) dead giveaway.

He was glad he wasn't having a nightmare. He didn't like nightmares. Sometimes, when he had a nightmare, he would wind up on the ceiling in ghost form, ready to fight.

He was carried to a large place filled with fuzzy light. It felt like a lot of people were there, but he couldn't see them, because he was very floppy in the dream, and could only look at what the giant showed him. It was sort of nice to be carried, to be floppy.

He was asked questions, lots of questions. They were confusing. It was important he told the truth. Very important. He knew that, because the dream told him so.

"Do you like it here?"

"Yes." This was a very nice dream, very pretty.

"Did you enjoy your day?"

"Yes." It was nice to have people interested in him, to say nice things to him. Positive attention from people other than his close friends wasn't something he got a lot of.

"Have your ever parents hurt you?"

"Yes," said Danny, muzzily. There was something about that question that felt uncomfortable.

"On purpose?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever been afraid of your parents?"

"Yes." That was kind of personal. He flopped his head over to try and see what was going on. The ghost holding him tipped his head back, and put the rim of a bottle to his lips. He drank obediently, trying to raise a weak hand to steady the bottle. When the bottle was pulled away he felt pleasantly floaty, no longer disturbed at all.

"Do you feel safe in your home?"

"No."

"Your Ghostly Wail power, how does it work? Can it break glass?"

There were other questions, he was pretty sure, but they blurred away into the dream. There was the sensation of movement, but, as was often the case in dreams, Danny didn't remember the journey. He was just suddenly there.

This room felt airier. Softer. There were fewer presences. He was passed from one to another. They took off his clothes, piece by piece. He'd had dreams like this before. Naked dreams. They were weird, but he had stopped caring very much about them. The dreams where he transformed in public were much scarier. Besides, they started to wrap him in soft things. Nice, soft things. The questions here were easier, too. They just asked him whether or not he was comfortable, and whether or not he needed anything. They smiled, laughed, and gave him hugs when he asked. Danny liked hugs. It went on until he was all wrapped up, like a mummy, arms crossed over his chest and legs bound together, only his face open to the air. He giggled at that thought.

Movement again. Now he was in a darker, blurry place. There were openings in the floor, hexagons, and the floor was curved. The horizon was close. It was like standing on a miniature planet. Like in that French story his third grade teacher had read to the class. He liked it.

He was slowly lowered into one of the holes by a ghost with very long, stripy arms. There were cushions in the bottom. They laid him carefully on them, and began to pack in more around him. Again, they asked him if he was comfortable, if he was in a position where he would get a cramp, or a kink, or if his legs or arms would fall asleep. But they also asked him if he could move, and how much. Eventually, he was completely surrounded on all sides, his body at a diagonal, not quite, sitting, not quite lying down, only his face exposed above the layer of cushions, facing up, to the opening.

They started to ask him other questions, then. Questions about what sounds comforted him, what scents he found soothing, his favorite colors, his favorite foods and desserts, whether or not he liked tea, if he liked flowers. Things that seemed inane, but still nice. It was nice, to have someone ask these questions, to have someone care. His friends didn't ask questions like this, then again, they knew most of the answers already. Still.

Then, because it was a dream, those scents and sounds he talked about started showing up, and the glass walls of the little room he was in turned deep, midnight blue. They still glowed, however. There were lights beyond them.

Then they gave him one last drink. This was a very important drink, they said. It would keep him from hurting people. That was important. He didn't want to hurt people. He felt himself getting very upset, but they calmed him again, and he drank the drink. It tasted different from the other drinks. More bitter.

He felt himself falling asleep in the dream, which was weird. That didn't happen to him, very much, though Jazz said it happened to her all the time. It was nice. Very nice.

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Danny woke up to find himself in a nice little cocoon of blankets. He snuggled deeper, enjoying the warmth and comfort, a smile on his face. He'd had a good night's sleep, a rarity. Perhaps coming here hadn't been that bad of an idea after all. The extra time here made things like this possible.

He lifted his arms above his head to stretch luxuriously.

Correction: he tried to lift his arms above his head to stretch luxuriously. He had, apparently, managed to tie himself up in the sheets. He forced his eyes open, and realized very abruptly that he was not in the guest room. His dreams came flooding back to him. They hadn't been dreams.

Everything- It had been a trap. An elaborate trap, and now he was tied up. Or... whatever this should be described as.

Okay, the wrappings were at least partially real-world items, otherwise he could phase through them in human form. Since they weren't, it would be best to be in ghost form, with access to its superior strength. He tapped his core-

The walls around him _thrummed_ with the spectral music of the Glass City, and something _extra._ There was something like sound. Something like. Something like. He was assaulted by the sense of his core being infinitely far away, _canceled._ It was like missing a step on a staircase, or trying to stand up too fast, vision graying out, and _falling._ He gasped for air, for solidity, and stability, and tried to keep his eyes from rolling up into the back of his head.

 _What._

"Ah, you're awake."

Danny blinked upwards, struggling to focus, struggling to think. A ghost's core was a ghost's brain, after all. That was the voice of one of the adult nobles, he remembered. He opened his mouth to asked what was going on.

No sound came out.

"We really are sorry about that," said the woman, "but we knew you would be upset, and we couldn't risk you using that Ghostly Wail power of yours. You'll understand, soon."

Danny glared up, seeking along the edges of the hole for the speaker. He couldn't see her.

"You'll understand, that it's so much better here, that you'll be safe here, where you will be protected, cherished, and nurtured, as a child like you should be. You'll be like us, a noble. A ruler. A member of this community." She said the last as though she couldn't imagine anything better. Danny recognized the tone of someone mentioning their Obsession, and filed away the fact for later. "You said you liked it here, and once you complete your metamorphosis, you need never leave again."

Danny opened his mouth to snark, remembered he couldn't, and snapped it shut again. He saw something long and thin edge over the rim of the hole, and transferred his ire to that.

"We're going to fill the cell," said the woman. "It eases things, but it will make it harder for you to hear, at least at first. Soon, you will hear as well as I, as well as any of us. Filling the cell will help with that, too."

Filling? Filling with what?

It evolved that the thin thing hanging down the side of the 'cell' was a hose, one that began disgorging viscous green ectoplasm. He cringed, and began to struggle. What did she mean by fill? Not all the way up, surely? He wouldn't be able to breathe, and he needed to breathe, when he was in human form, at least if he didn't want to be in horrible panicked pain. He knew this from experience.

Struggling unfortunately, didn't do anything to help him. The ghosts had done their work too well. He tried, futilely, to go ghost again. Whatever they were doing to keep him from using his core was hideously effective. The liquid crept up his throat and he quivered, hyperventilating, anticipating it moving over his face. But it didn't, it stopped just as it passed his ears.

The spectral music, the rhythm and not-sound, it was magnified through the thick ectoplasm. He could feel it pulse through his bones. The buzz, the hum, the sweet high sound of fingers on glass. Slowly, like metronomes on a rocking table coming into sync, the pulse, his heartbeat, and the signature of his own core came together. Then the alien rhythm slowed, and dragged his heart rate down with it, his core becoming subdued. He felt himself growing calm, sleepy, lethargic. He was too comfortable.

But he did not fall asleep. Even as his mind unfocused, he fought for awareness.

Then there was the sound of clocks. He had told them, before, that the sound of clocks relaxed him. Something relaxed inside him, something wary uncurled, like they had been given a key to his mind.

He fell asleep.

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He woke up. No, he was _allowed_ to wake up. They allowed him to wake up. His heartbeat was still synced with the thrum of the walls.

Danny heard something from above that had the cadence of a cheerful voice. He focused all his attention on it, but the only word he could make out was 'hungry.'

Danny was hungry. Starving, really. He was also instantly suspicious. He stared upwards, mouth firmly closed. That was really all he _could_ do, confined as he was.

A long, many-jointed arm reached down, a honey-dipper in it's hand. It paused before it reached Danny's lips, as though expecting him to open wide.

Danny, of course, did nothing of the sort. The ghost above pressed down on his lips. Danny squeezed them shut harder. The honey (it was probably honey, it looked like honey) dripped, sticky, thick, and slow, down his cheeks.

The texture of the vibrations surrounding him changed. He could swear there were words in them. No not words. Meanings, pushing up against the raw and sensitive edges of his consciousness.

 _Hungry,_ they said. _Hungry. Hungryhungryhungry._

Danny tried to stay resolute, but felt himself waver. He was hungry. He hoped they hadn't figured out his (painfully obvious) Obsession. He liked to think that he was strong-willed, but, like any ghost, if he was deprived of his Obsession for long enough, and then someone leaned against it in the right way, he would crumple. That was just how Obsessions worked.

The ghost holding the honey dipper prodded Danny's lips again. This time, instead of running down his cheek, a bead of honey ran towards his nose. Danny didn't register the implications of this until it reached his nose, momentarily blocking his airway. He gasped, and the ghost above took the opening.

The honey was overwhelmingly sweet. He swallowed once, reflexively, before realizing that was a bad idea. But then it was too late.

 _Eat,_ commanded the voices in the ectoplasm. So he did. Once the honey dipper was licked clean ghost pulled it away. A minute later, it returned, with more honey. Danny broke faster this time. He quickly lost track of how many times the arm left and came back, but at the end of it, Danny was stuffed full and sleepy again. The arm came down one last time to clean Danny's face, and he was thrummed to sleep.

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It went on like that for a while. Danny would wake, ravenous, and be fed, then drift off into odd, fragmented dreams. Gradually, he began to gain a greater understanding of what was going on. The thrum wasn't a thrum. It was the sum of every ectosignature in the Glass City, transmitted to him by the medium of the glass walls of his cell and the ectoplasm surrounding him. It was the closest thing to telepathy Danny had ever experienced, and he didn't like it. Every time he woke, the voices were closer, clearer, more urgent. They took up more and more of his thoughts and attention. They even began to influence his dreams. This wasn't a city at all. It was a hive.

But no matter how comfortable, how comforting, they tried to make the little prison, it was still a prison. The sound of clocks might usually be soothing to Danny, but it was also linked to his worst memory and his greatest fear. And Danny had bad dreams.

 _He dreamed of Clockwork's lair, the ticking of a thousand clocks but empty, a thermos standing on a pedestal, and rattling, Danny could feel it in his teeth and in his teeth he could feel it. The laughter was madness and buzzing. He called out for Clockwork but Clockwork wasn't there he was alone but he wasn't alone because HE was there and the thermos rattle and creaked and cracked and broke. It broke and smoke poured out, but it wasn't smoke it was HIM, and he called out but he had no voice, he could only cough and choke as the smoke wrapped around him and in him and slithered over his skin and turned it blue and changed him and- no no no no no. He would fight, he had promised. He had promised!_

Danny woke in Phantom form, mid-air, dripping with sweat and ectoplasm, the tattered remains of rainbow-colored silk bandages hanging off his suit. The glass walls of the cell below were crazed with cracks. The voices were still there, but distant, not so distinct, not so pressing. His thoughts were his own, and his thought was, _Get out._

He fled. He didn't know which way was out, and his breakout had clearly alerted the guards, who were much larger and stronger than he was, but he was small, fast, clever, didn't care about breaking things, and, for once, was well-rested. He had solved Pandora's Labyrinth. This was a place made to be navigated, and every time he made progress towards he goal, the voices protested, trying to turn him back.

He went up, and up, away from the little honeycomb planet at the core of the city, away from the place he had been confined, towards home. He reached the to 'city' layer, the last before the jungle-like floating garden, bounced off the glass, and hissed, the only vocalization left to him, as he cast around for an opening. The guards were swarming behind him. They reminded him of bees.

He avoided them narrowly. Oddly, they did not use ectoblasts, or other damaging powers, only trying to grab him and subdue him. Perhaps they didn't want to accidentally damage the glass.

He was past them, and through the opening in the glass. He had forgotten how hot it was on the garden, and how mobile ghostly plants could be, but he no longer cared if he damaged them. In fact, he wanted to damage them.

He let his core snap with cold, false summer giving way to equally fictitious winter. Two succulent plants shattered in the cold. Others froze solid, or wilted.

But, although the plants themselves were no longer a treat, and the air had chilled to something bearable, they still provided prime ambush cover. He had no way of knowing whether or not a stray rustle was simply the result of drift, of a branch freezing and drooping, or of the breeze, or if it was the result of something more sinister.

Danny's solution was simple: go so fast that no one could catch him. Shockingly, this worked. He was out. He angled himself towards home and poured on even more speed, as he no longer had to worry about running into glass barriers.

He kept flying until he couldn't hear even a whisper of the Glass City, only then did he let himself collapse on a small floating island. He was exhausted. He didn't often fight armies. Not on his own.

This was... Not a good situation. He couldn't speak. He didn't know how long he'd been gone. He was covered in goo. Admittedly, the last was almost normal, he was a Fenton, the others were not. He hugged himself.

This was when his finger tips encountered something that should not be on his back and should definitely not have nerve endings. He froze, and twisted his neck so he could see over his shoulder.

He had wings. Large, long, moth wings, like those the nobles had sported, though his weren't as colorful, being picked out in shades of white, gray, and black, with only the faintest suggestion of blue and green. He also had a tail, in a mix of those same colors. The 'barb' at the end was heart-shaped.

Maybe... Maybe this would go away when he shifted into human form.

It didn't. The color scheme changed slightly, white and black swapping places, and green being replaced by blue, but otherwise, it was the same. The only major difference was that now Danny was also naked.

Danny dug a sharp tooth into his lower lip. This couldn't be happening.

But it was.


	45. Chapter 45

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D&D

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Mikey, Nathan, Lester, and Ricky peered into the unused classroom, and, satisfied that there weren't any jocks in there, walked in. They all carried papers, books, and pencils, but they weren't there to study. Oh, no. They were there for something much more fun.

Lester flicked on the lights, and Mikey gasped, loudly, with each of the other boys whirling to find the cause of the sound.

"Oh," said Ricky, relaxing. "It's just Danny."

Sure enough, Danny Fenton was fast asleep, curled on a long desk in the corner of the room, using his lurid purple backpack as a pillow. Now that they were listening, they could hear his breathing, his nose whistling slightly. Danny wasn't a nerd, and was definitely a weirdo, but he also wasn't a threat. He had never hurt any of them, and had actually helped them from time to time.

"Maybe we should find another room?" asked Mikey.

"Nah," said Nathan, who was already setting up on one of the tables. "You know Danny, we could probably set off firecrackers in here and he wouldn't wake up."

Lester laughed at his twin's comment. "Yeah, probably."

"Okay," said Mikey, sliding into a seat. "I guess. So, you are done this time, right, Nate?"

Nathan grinned. "Yeah!" he said, opening one of the books. It had a cover of muted colors, it's title was ghost blue, _Ghostwalk_. "Did you two bring your dead characters?"

"Got 'em," said Ricky, cheerfully, digging through his backpack, and presenting several smudged, crumpled packets of paper.

"Yes," said Mikey, holding up a neat folder, "they're here. Les, you have yours?"

"Yep."

"Great, now it's time to figure out which ones to use, and turn them into ghosts. We need at least a spellcaster, a rogue, and warrior-type character. Levels five to seven."

"Got it," said Mikey. "I have Creslu the Crafty, and Moni the Montebank. Oh, er, wizard six and bard four, respectively. Moni's got a couple sorcerer levels, though. Oh! Do I keep my familiar?"

"Er. Not right away. Anyone object to Mikey being the spellcaster?"

"Nah," said Lester.

Ricky shook his head. "I like playing rogues better anyway. I've got... four level fives."

"Shouldn't that be five?" asked Lester. "You lost five characters when we did the Temple, didn't you?"

"No, the fifth is only level four."

"You don't do a good job staying alive, do you? Good thing we'll be playing ghosts, huh?"

Ricky blushed. "Shut up."

"Which one do you want to do?" asked Nathan.

"Uh. This one has the best stats."

"Name?"

"Steven Stevie Steves."

"Third one, huh?"

"Yep."

"Uh, Lester, I guess that leaves you with the warrior. Whatcha wanna do?"

"Hm," said Lester, "I think I'll do the paladin, this time. Lesjo. Yeah, Lesjo. He had a good backstory, too."

"Good choice, you can do healing spells, too, that way," said Nathan, making a note in his notebook. "Now, we've got to start applying the template and re-write on clean sh-"

"What are you doing?"

"Argh!"

Somehow, while the four of them had been talking, Danny had woken up and walked over to stand directly behind Nathan without any of them noticing. Mikey in particular looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

"Are you okay?" asked Danny, rubbing an eye, but managing to look concerned anyway.

"I'm- Uh- I'm fine," said Mikey. "How are you so quiet?"

"Dunno. What are you guys doing here? Math?"

"Uh, no," said Ricky, recovering. "We're playing a game?"

"What kind of game?" Danny leaned over Nathan's shoulder. _"Ghostwalk?"_ He frowned. "Ghosts? Is that safe?"

"It's a D&D campaign setting," said Nathan, wondering if he was going to be as weird about ghosts as his parents. "It's not real."

Danny relaxed marginally, but noticeably. "Oh. That's okay, then. It looks interesting."

Nathan blinked in surprise. Most people at Casper High looked at their hobby with disdain. No one ever complimented it. "Yeah, well, uh. What?"

"Nathan put a lot of work into this," said Ricky, somewhat combatively. He wasn't going to let his friend be mocked. "He spent a lot of time homebrewing it so that the ghosts are like real ghosts."

Danny blinked slowly. "Okay. That sounds cool."

Silence.

"What were you doing here, anyway?" asked Lester.

"Sleeping." Danny ran his hand through his hair. "Can I play?"

"What?" said Nathan. Danny, as mentioned before, wasn't a bad guy, but he was kind of a delinquent. A troublemaker. Not a nerd.

"It's okay if I can't," said Danny. "I'll just get out of your way. Um. Where's my backpack?" he muttered.

"No, you can play with us," said Nathan.

"What're you doing?" hissed Lester.

"It's better with more people," said Nathan. "Here, sit down, we'll show you how."


	46. Chapter 46

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Alternate Ending

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"At first," said Vlad, standing in front of the spectral energy neutralizer, hands clasped behind his back, "I was going to ask one of my children to overshadow you." He ruffled Dani's hair, and indicated the small green ghost. "But that would be too risky, so I came up with another option."

"What, like not doing a kill-and-replace on me and acting like a normal human being for once?"

Vlad smiled and stepped forward. Danny strained back, but the rubber collar around his neck and the holding mechanisms inside the green and black cube kept him firmly in place. He patted Danny on the cheek, and caressed his cheekbone with his thumb.

"Kill you, dear boy? That would be rather foolish of me, wouldn't it? As for the other, you should know as well as I, we aren't human."

Vlad removed his hand, and stroked the edge of the box. A row of buttons sprang up.

"What're those for?" asked Danny.

"Various things," said Vlad. "Danielle, why don't you take your brother and go play upstairs?"

Danny felt his heart drop. That was not a good sign. That meant that whatever Vlad was about to do was gruesome enough that he didn't want Dani or the other clone to see it, and considering that Dani had no scruple against helping Vlad beat Danny into unconsciousness, and the other clones had melted, Danny had no doubt that it was _bad._

He squirmed as best as he was able. He really didn't want to be alone with Vlad right now.

Vlad ignored him, and started pressing buttons. Whatever was inside the box started to arrange Danny's limbs into a different position. Danny was really not liking this.

"Vlad, um, maybe we could talk about thi- Ow!" Danny yelped as a needle sunk into his arm.

"Don't worry, Daniel. That's just a DNA sampler, not a drug." He pressed another button, and another needle jabbed Danny. " _That,_ however, is."

Instead of the expected drowsiness, Danny felt like Vlad had just injected him with caffeine. He was more awake than he ever had been. Everything was sharper, clearer. Painfully so. Danny could hear the buzzing of the lights overhead, which had become blindingly bright, and the fans in Vlad's computers. He could hear his heartbeat. He could hear Vlad's heartbeat. He could feel the rubber cuffs that bound him inside the cube, every shift of the needles in his arms, the weave of his clothing where it lay against his skin, and even the vibration of spectral energy neutralizer as it worked to counteract his powers. He was horribly aware of each and every hair on his body, and was fairly certain he could feel his blood rushing under his skin. And the taste of the air! The _smells._

"Do you like it?" asked Vlad, his voice far too loud. Danny flinched, hard, which only caused a new wave of sensations. "It's from the Ghost Zone," he continued. "It's called the eye of Aletheia. I use it myself, on occasion, in small doses. Hyper awareness is useful in some situations." He paused. "I did not give you a small dose."

Danny squeezed his eyes shut, and wished fervently that he could do the same for his ears. The lights shone through his eyelids anyway. Everything was too loud and bright, and everything itched and prickled. The places that the cuffs held him were beginning to burn. The holes in his arms were screaming.

"In fact, your dose hasn't been fully administered yet. It has to be injected slowly, you see." Vlad drummed his fingers against the box. It sounded like thunder. "It has another effect, at high doses. Do you know what a mnestic drug is? Never mind, of course you don't. A mnestic helps you remember things. In the case of _this_ one, though, it causes flashbacks. Extremely vivid ones, like waking dreams, that can be triggered by, well, anything. I wonder how long it will take, for you to get one. I wonder how long it will take for you to get one where you transform." Vlad sounded amused. "You should have enough in you system for those to start, well, any minute, now."

Danny suppressed a moan.

.

Vlad was right. The flashbacks _were_ vivid.

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He came to, shaking, exhausted, and in _ghost form._ He was also standing in the center of a wide circle of debris, that vaguely resembled the spectral energy neutralizer. Vlad was semiconscious against the wall. Danny's brain started to put things together. He must have used his Ghostly Wail, and it overloaded the box.

Danny pulled the needles from his arms, and stumbled to the door. Vlad had probably gotten what he wanted, but, at this point, Danny just wanted to get out, and away from Vlad and his freakish drugs. He fell against the door frame, and it felt like sandpaper. His ghost form flickered, failed, and _that_ felt too much, too.

"Daniel," groaned Vlad.

Danny went faster. His feet felt weird, and he was dizzy.

He realized too late that he had gone _away_ from the portal. The Ghost Zone wasn't the safest place to recover, but it was big, and not under Vlad's control, like Vlad's castle was, and he could get home much more easily from there. But he wasn't about to go back past Vlad in this state. He would have to find somewhere to hide in the castle until the drug wore off and he could recover some strength.

The stairs seemed unreasonably steep, but he made it up them before stumbling into Vlad's study. This triggered another flashback, this time to Vlad's 20th reunion party. He wandered, not coming out of it until he was hit over the head with an ectoblast. He turned, aware again.

"You can't be up here!" said Danielle, floating. The other, little clone floated next to her. Danny raised his hands defensively, ectoplasm sparking off his fingers.

The little ghost zoomed forward, and faded around the edges, intangible, before flying right into Danny's chest. His vision grayed out. He could remember fighting Poindexter like this. He had fought Poindexter like this. He was fighting Poindexter like this.

The little ghost was out of his body, and Danny was back to reality. Danny watched in horror as it melted. So did Dani.

"No-" whispered Danny.

"You!" shouted Dani, diving for him. Her skin contacted his, and memories rippled through them, understanding echoing. Danny knew, and Dani knew, and they knew that each other knew.

Danny lost consciousness.

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He woke up in a cell. The sensitivity of his senses had subsided to a manageable level, but he was glad that the cell wasn't lit directly. He could hear Vlad talking, and he cautiously opened his eyes.

Vlad was fiddling with the pod containing the 'prime' clone. He was either talking to himself, or to the clone, because Danny didn't see anyone else. No, wait, that wasn't true. Dani was lying on a table. No, she was strapped to the table, unconscious.

"Hah!" said Vlad. "There!" He pressed a large green button on the side of the pod, and the pod's glass cover popped over. Steam poured out. Vlad was grinning madly.

Danny pushed himself away, across the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest. He watched, wide-eyed, as the figure in the pod sat up, and turned to face Vlad.

"Father?" he said, pleasantly.

Vlad hugged him. "My son. How I've waited for you."

The clone hugged him back, then pulled away, and looked around, with sleepy eyes. "Where's Dani?"

Vlad raised his eyebrows. "The original?" Vlad sent a nasty grin in Danny's direction. "We're going to keep him for a while, in case we need more samples."

The clone shook his head. "No, my sister."

"Danielle? How do you even know about her?"

"She came to talk to me," said the clone. "Where is she? Are you going to fix her now?"

Vlad coughed, slightly. "Ah, well, no." He gestured to the table Dani was strapped to. "It turns out that Danielle's problem is a bit bit different than yours. I'm afraid I won't be able to help her, even with the original's mid-morph DNA. I thought it would be more humane, less painful, to... let her sleep, at the end."

Danny leaped to his feet, "You liar! You never were going to help her!"

"Well, well, well," said Vlad, "what do we have-"

Vlad was hit over the back of the head with the Boo-merang. It fell to the floor, and he turned to glare at it. That was when the wall exploded. The Specter Speeder burst into the lab, Sam and Tucker at the controls. They started firing at Vlad.

"I'm the real one!" shouted Danny.

At the same time, the clone shouted, "He's the real one!"

"Wait, aren't you supposed to say you're the real one?"

"Why would I do that?" said the clone, frowning.

A stray blast from the fight between Vlad and the Speeder hit the cage, bending the bars enough for Danny to slip out. He did so, giving the clone a wide berth. The clone just watched him, eyes wide. Danny wanted to go help Tucker and Sam, even though he wouldn't be much use as he was, but he also wanted to get Dani, and he would have to get past the clone to do that. He took a hesitant step forward. The clone lunged at him, never losing that pleasant, innocent expression.

Their skin touched, and so did their minds. Like with Dani, their memories mixed, co-mingled, and were exchanged in total, copied. They separated, and Danny knew exactly what it was like to be him, and Danny knew that he knew what it was like to be Danny.

"I want you to take Dani," said the clone.

"Come with us," said Danny.

The clone shook his head. "No. No. I have to stay with father. I can help him. Take Dani. Maybe she'll live if she doesn't have to fight."

Danny nodded. He understood. He got up, the clone followed. Together, they undid Dani's straps. The clone casually threw an ectoblast at Vlad.

Danny stared. He shrugged. "Father will think it was you," he explained.

"Right," said Danny. He swung Dani over his shoulder. He was pleased to note that his strength was recovering. He made a run to the Speeder, and jumped in. "Get us out of here!"

"Got it!" said Sam. She backed the Speeder out of the hole she had made, and they flew away.


	47. Chapter 47

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Animals

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Three ravens sat above the door of Casper High. Danny looked up at them, standing still as other students filed into the school. The ravens looked back. After a minute, he nodded. The ravens nodded back.

Danny went in.

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"Have you ever noticed," asked Star, leaning over the table to talk to Valerie, her lab partner, "how weird animals act around Fenton?"

"Yeah," said Valerie. "When we were going out, all the cats in my building really liked him. Even the nasty feral ones. But some people are just like that. It's pheromones, or body language, or whatever."

"It's not just cats though," said Star. "Like, Rebecca told me that a couple nights ago, she saw him in the park, at, like, night, and she said he was, like, feeding bast, or something."

Valerie mad a face. "I think that Rebecca's just pulling your leg. Either that, or she's heard the Westons' vampire theory, and is trying to freak them out."

"I think the vampire thing is just Hannah," said Star, "Wes is pretty focused on the ghost angle. But, I mean, seriously. Isn't it just a _little_ weird?"

Valerie rolled her eyes. "Next thing you know, you'll be joining the cult."

"I will not!"

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Casper High was making an attempt to be more diverse, and explore more career options for it's students. An attempt. Not a very good attempt, but still. They were trying.

The current manifestation of that attempt was an hour and a half long bus ride out to a farm. It wasn't clear how representative the farm would be, however, as it was very much oriented towards tourism as a way of making money.

At least everyone would get a Halloween pumpkin out of the trip. That had been a big selling point for the field trip.

But, before they got to the pumpkin patch, they visited the animals. The animal area was more of an oddly designed petting zoo than anything else, which, predictably, set off Sam Manson. Sam's rants were considered highly annoying, highly enlightened, or highly entertaining depending on what segment of the Casper High population one fell into. In all cases, they were highly distracting. This meant that no one immediately noticed how the animals were reacting to the presence of Danny Fenton.

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Danny gazed softly at the sheep and alpaca. They were crowded as far away from him as their enclosure would allow.

"Looks like we can put sheep and alpaca on the list of animals that are terrified of you," said Tucker, hands stuffed into his pockets. Mrs Tetslaff had confiscated his PDA.

"Yeah, I guess," said Danny, shrugging. His tone was flat and heavy enough to crush a car.

"Hey, let's go stand over by the horses," suggested Tucker, "see how they react."

"I don't know," said Danny. He was fairly certain they were ponies, not horses, anyway. They were pretty small.

Tucker started pushing Danny to the horses' enclosure. "Come on. I bet they'll like you."

The horses (ponies?) did react differently. Several of them came to the fence Tuker and Danny were standing next to, and began examining Danny with some interest.

"See?" said Tucker, beaming, as a pale gray pony stretched it's neck out over the fence to sniff at Danny's hair. "They like you!"

Danny smiled faintly, and reached up to put the pony on the neck. "You're old, hm?" he said. "You're going to die soon, aren't you?" He felt eyes on him, and looked over. "What?"

"Dude. That's really creepy, you know."

"What is?"

"'You're going to die, soon?' Really? If you keep prophesying their deaths, no wonder animals don't like you."

.

Danny picked up the cub. It was soft, red and white, and sleepy. It yawned and resettled in Danny's lap, tiny and sweet. Danny started to pet it. He smiled.

"He's very cute," he said, turning to look at the ghost of the mother fox. The mother yawned and laid down. She was already growing more transparent. Misty and vaporous. She wasn't long dead, and had only a limited Obsession, a mission. "I'll take care of him."

The ghost faded. After a few more minutes, Danny stood up, the cub nestled in the crook of his arm.

"Time to go."


	48. Chapter 48

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Seance

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"We need to do a seance," said Danny without preamble. He had just met up with Sam and Tucker in the park for the night's patrol.

"Um," said Sam, purple eyes peering suspiciously from beneath her hoodie. "Why?"

Danny sighed deeply. "Because over dinner Mom and Dad said that two of Mom's friends are coming to visit for a week, starting tomorrow, and they're both mediums."

"You're kidding," said Sam.

"I wish I was."

"Do your parents know _anyone_ normal?" asked Tucker, similarly bundled in a coat. He tapped his flashlight against his hand, jogging the bulb back into brightness.

"They know your parents. They're pretty normal."

Sam raised her hand. "That's great and all, but how does this relate to us needing to do a seance?"

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "This is going to sound crazy and paranoid, but, well, the last time I met one of Mom and Dad's friends, it was Vlad, so I figure at least one of them will be evil crazy, or both. Mediums do seances, right? If they're going to be here for a week, they're going to do a seance. That means I'll need to know how to know how they affect me, and how to hide it, or if I need to just avoid them."

"Okay, yeah. That makes sense. But, you know, if they're _actually_ mediums, then their seances will be different than anything we can do? And there are a lot of different kinds of seance."

Danny scowled. "Why does everything have to be so _complicated?_ " he complained. His eyes started glowing green.

"Hey, calm down," said Tucker. "We can at least run through a couple of the, uh, kinds. Right, Sam?"

"Yeah. One, anyway. I'll have to go home and get my Ouija board. Unless you guys want to try to do it in my basement?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. We don't want anyone walking in on us. Maybe we can do it in the school? Or something like that?"

"My parents won't walk in on us. They hate the basement."

"Your grandma?"

"Nah. She's already asleep."

"Hey, I'm cool with doing this inside a house we're actually allowed to be in," said Tucker, "rather than the school, where we'd be trespassing, or outside. It's kind of cold out here."

"Is it?" asked Danny, tilting his head. "Sorry, sometimes I can't tell." He offered his hands to his friends. "I can fly you guys?"

"Sure," said Tucker, casually taking his hand.

"Sounds like a plan," said Sam.

Danny went ghost, and took off with his friends. They flew invisibly over the town before sweeping down to Sam's house, falling through the roof, the ceilings, and floors, and hitting the basement.

"Okay," said Sam. "The board is actually down here. Give me a second here. Ah." She started going through a bin of board games. "Here it is."

"Cool. So what do we do?" said Danny. "Sit on the floor? Or, um."

"Yeah, that's good. We just all have to hold the planchette."

"The what?"

"The planchette, Tucker. It's the thing that points to the letters on the board. It's supposed to be what the spirit moves to communicate, but scientists think that it's just subconscious muscle movements, which is still fun. It's like a group subconscious consensus thing." Sam took the board out of the box as she spoke, and put it on the floor.

"So, we just go ahead and touch it?" asked Danny, nervously, returning to human form before taking a seat.

"Yeah," said Sam.

The three of them touched the little wooden triangle.

"So," said Sam. "Are there any spirits here with us tonight?"

The planchette twitched, but Danny was pretty sure that was just because Tucker's arm twitched.

"So, um, am I supposed to move this, or something?"

"Er. I don't know. Do you feel anything?"

"I mean, I feel lots of things. Nothing really weird, though."

They stared at the board.

"And," Danny continued, "I would be able to tell if there was a ghost nearby. Since. You know. Ghost sense."

"Right," said Sam.

Tucker looked up, expression thoughtful. "What about when you're in ghost form? Do you think it'll be different?"

"Hmm," said Danny. "Let's find out." He went ghost, and started to float. "Do you think I should go invisible for this?"

"Well, most ghosts people would do this with would be invisible."

"Okay," said Danny, fading from view. "Got it."

Sam and Tucker put their hands back on the planchette.

"Is there a spirit with us tonight?" asked Sam. Tucker suppressed a snicker.

Danny looked down at the board. An urge to mess with the planchette developed. He prodded it with a finger, giggled, and prodded it again.

"Danny, we know you're there. It isn't like you're scaring us, or anything," said Sam.

Danny came back into visibility. "I know. I just felt like doing it."

"What kind of felt like it?" asked Sam.

"Just normal felt like it. I guess seances really are a scam."

"Unless one of your Mom's friends really is a medium. That might change things," pointed out Sam.

"Yeah. Thanks for that. I _was_ actually starting to feel better."


	49. Chapter 49

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Favorite Character

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Tucker had always thought that ComiCon was cool. When he first learned that Phantom had been made into a comic book character, he'd thought it was cool. When he'd seen that people were cosplaying as Danny and Sam in support of their cross-country flight from the Guys in White, he'd thought it was _really_ cool. Then he realized that no one was dressed as him, and that was... less cool. That was kind of hurtful, actually.

He, Danny, and Sam had split up to canvas the convention better, faster. Tucker had stopped, just for a moment, to take a look at a table selling Danny Phantom comics. He had stopped, and quickly moved on again, but apparently that wasn't enough for _some people._

This was not cool. This was really not cool. This was getting to the point of justification for homicide.

... and here Tucker was, sounding like Sam.

Still.

"You've probably never read one of the books!" said the _supremely_ annoying old fat white guy who had been following Tucker since he'd made that ill-advised stop. "Not if you didn't know about Lunch-a-belle and Mr Mask!"

Tucker rolled his eyes, and redoubled his pace. With names that dumb, either Jazz, Ghost Writer, or both had to be involved. Of course he didn't know them. He knew the ghosts' _actual names._

"I bet you can't even name your favorite character!" said the guy, who made up for not being as agile as Tucker by being able to part crowds with sheer unpleasantness and girth. "You're not a real fan! Fake! Faker!"

Tucker whirled. "I'm the fake?" he demanded, shaking a finger in the man's face.

"Yeah! I bet you're like all these other posers who're only interested because of the news!"

Tucker's lips curled back. "You realize that just because someone decided they liked something after you doesn't mean they don't actually like it." He did not add, _you absolute loser._ "So why don't you go away and leave me alone? In case you haven't noticed, I'm nowhere near your precious table anymore." Tucker spun on his heel, and made for the most crowded place he could see.

The guy. Just. Kept. Following. Him.

Someone grabbed his elbow. "Hey," said Sam- No. Just a girl dressed like Sam.

"What?" asked Tucker, pulling away. He kept walking.

"Is Greg bothering you?" asked the girl, keeping pace.

"Greg?"

She jerked her head back over her shoulder. "Greg. He's a jerk, and he's been a problem for a while. Want us to take care of him for you?"

"That's be great, thanks," said Tucker.

"No problem. By the way, great cosplay. I wish I could pull off Tucker Foley, but I just didn't have the time since the reveal, and skin color, you know?"

"Heh, yeah, thanks," said Tucker, smiling.

The girl stopped walking. "Greg alert!" she shouted. The crowd converged on the unpleasant man.

Tucker's smile widened into a grin. Maybe ComiCon wasn't quite what he'd thought it would be, and his parents were being held hostage by a maniac, and they were on the run from a federal agency, but he'd take his happiness where he could get it.


	50. Chapter 50

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Favorite Episode

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Spectra tapped her fingers idly against the table as Bertrand packed her belongings. Her belongings, not his. He didn't have any belongings. Everything in their life was hers, and it was generous of her to give him anything.

They had once again dismantled and destroyed the psyches of all the vulnerable youth in a community. The harvest of despair and anguish had been delectable. But, as always happened, people were beginning to grow suspicious. The children she had been less successful with were reaching out. If she stuck around too much longer, there would be an investigation. No one would find anything, of course, but investigations were annoying, distracting, time consuming, and there was always the risk that someone would start putting the pieces together, especially if there were too many investigations, and Spectra started to run into the same investigators.

No, it was better to leave before that nonsense even started. But that begged the question, where should they go next? Where could they get high-quality misery?

"Bertrand," said Spectra, thoughtfully, "I'm feeling nostalgic. How do you feel about going back to our roots?"

The shapeshifter paused, packing tape in hand. "The Ghost Zone?"

"Hm. Not quite. Do you remember the first school we blessed with our presence? In the fifties? We used a bit of a different strategy back then," she said reminiscing.

"Ooh. Yes. When you were a nurse, and, heh, encouraged the bullying? Didn't that one kid die? Got shut in his locker over a long weekend or something?"

"That's right," said Spectra in a slightly sing-song tone. "Want to try that again?"

"Sounds like a plan!"

"Casper High, here we come!"


	51. Chapter 51

**A continuation of worldbuilding and confined.**

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Comfort

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Danny had neither enough strength nor focus to switch back to ghost form, so he just crouched, naked, on the island. His breath was coming fast and hard, and he was trying not to pull his hair, but there was nothing else to grab onto. Nothing that was really his. Nothing that wasn't wings or tail that he refused to believe were his, refused to believe were permanent.

This wasn't fair. Life in general wasn't fair, but this was especially unfair. He shouldn't have to go through life and afterlife double-guessing everyone and everything. He shouldn't have to worry that every stranger who was friendly to him was secretly plotting to murder him, kidnap him, or brainwash him. No one should have to worry about that. He didn't want to be suspicious and paranoid all the time. He wanted to be able to trust people, and make friends, and not pay for the attempt with being drugged, held prisoner, and- and _changed._

Having his body drastically altered against his will _once_ should be more than enough, shouldn't it?

"Daniel."

The words were so soft but the sounded so _loud,_ and Danny's head snapped up painfully fast. It was Clockwork, with his robes and staff, floating just over the rocky surface of the island. He floated at a respectful distance, tail lashing with some agitation, and Danny just _knew_ Clockwork had calculated to prevent him from feeling threatened.

Danny's eyes flicked up and down Clockwork, making sure he was there, really there, making sure this wasn't a trick, a trap, or some trick of Danny's admittedly over-stressed mind. Finally, with a gasp of relief, he uncurled from his crouch, and ran to Clockwork, hugging the older ghost like his life and sanity depended on it.

Clockwork swung his cloak around Danny's shoulders and patted him gently. "It will be alright," said Clockwork.

Danny realized then that Clockwork had known what was going to happen. He had known what was going to happen and didn't warn Danny, even though Danny had come to visit him right before he ran into the Glass City people. Danny pushed away from Clockwork, took several stumbling steps backwards, opened his mouth to say something angry, defensive, and accusatory, then remembered his voice wasn't working. He tried to settle for crossing his arms.

Clockwork hadn't tried to hold on to him. This was hugely upsetting to Danny for some reason, and he started to cry. Then he tried to hide the fact that he was crying by hiding his face behind Clockwork's cloak, which was stupid. That's what everyone did when they were crying.

"Daniel," said Clockwork, very softly. He floated over to Danny, then down, so that his eyes and Danny's were at the same level. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I know that it was traumatic, and I don't expect you to forgive me. You don't have to. You have every right to be angry with me. It was the lesser of several evils, and you will need what you gained there. I hope you will at least believe me when I say that." He paused. "Will you let me touch you? I can fix your voice."

Danny hesitated, still angry, but also wanting to be held again, feel safe again. He lowered his hands, and nodded, still withdrawn in Clockwork's cloak.

Clockwork raised his hands. "I'm going to have to touch your throat," he said.

Danny nodded again, a little more sharply this time. Clockwork's gloved hands touched his neck, feather-light. Danny still flinched. He was too used to people grabbing him by the neck during his fights. Clockwork paused, meeting Danny's eyes. Danny nodded again, and squeezed his eyes shut.

He felt the chill of intangibility as Clockwork's fingers briefly dipped _into_ his throat, then back out again.

"That should be it," said Clockwork.

"Really?" whispered Danny. He sighed in relief. He could speak again. He looked up at Clockwork. "Why didn't you warn me?" he asked. "Why did- Why did that-? Why would they do that? And what- I can't go home like this. I can't _hide_ these. They're too big."

"It is complicated," said Clockwork, "and I'm sorry. I truly am." He ran his hand down Danny's shoulder. "Let me bring you back to my lair. You can get cleaned up, I'll get you something to eat, and we can talk about what to do next."

"Okay," said Danny. He leaned into Clockwork, hiding his face.

"Alright, here we go," said Clockwork.

He opened a portal and gently steered Danny towards it. They came out in Clockwork's lair, surrounded by the ticking of clocks. Oddly, this didn't spark any unease in Danny, despite how the sound had been used while he was imprisoned in the Glass City. He just felt calm. Safe.

"The bathroom is over there," said Clockwork, pointing. "I've laid out some clothing for you."

"You really planned this out," grumbled Danny.

"I'm afraid so. What would you like to eat?"

Danny looked down at his bare feet. What did he want? Was he even hungry? He found that he was. As for what he wanted... Nothing sweet. Nothing soft. He'd had too much of that. "Something spicy," he said, "and crunchy."

"Hm. How do nachos sound?" asked Clockwork.

"That would be okay," said Danny, still looking down.

"Alright. They'll be ready when you come out."

"Okay," mumbled Danny. He shuffled forward across the floor, enjoying the feeling of the stone under his feet. The stone, not glass. He wasn't sure how, but it _was_ different.

Once in the bathroom, he hung up Clockwork's cloak on one of the hooks, and started a shower. He had to get all the ectoplasmic goo off of himself. The water made his... wings... feel heavy. It was weird, and he didn't know if he should try to wash them more vigorously or not. He knew that with butterflies, if you grabbed their wings, scales would come off, and that was supposed to be unhealthy.

He settled for just rinsing.

When he came out, he found a towel the stack of clothes Clockwork had set out. Sweatpants with a hole for the tail, socks, and a turtle neck that hung down to his knees with two long slits in the back.

He hadn't looked in the mirror yet. He had a nasty suspicion about what he'd find. He shuffled, not sure if he should look, if he was ready to look, but then decided that it was better to be quick about it, to get it over with.

Except for what he was wearing, he looked like the Glass City nobles. His eyes were too big, and his skin was too smooth. He bit his lower lip, suppressing a panic. Clockwork had said he would explain, and they would be able to talk about what they'd do next. Or he had almost said that. He had said something like that. Sort of.

He had to believe that Clockwork would help him.

He shuffled out of the bathroom, and made his way to Clockwork's kitchen. Or tried to, anyway. He would swear that the floor plan of Clockwork's lair changed every time he came to visit.

But before he could be lost for long, Clockwork appeared, and directed him to the kitchen. There were some _very_ fancy nachos on the counter, chips piled high with cheese, meat, peppers, and other vegetables. A large glass of water was sitting next to them, and a pair of stools was sat in front of the counter.

Danny perched gingerly on one of them. Clockwork sat on the other. Danny started eating.

"Would you like to hear about the Glass City now," asked Clockwork, "or would you like to wait until after you eat?"

"Naof," said Danny around a nacho he had already shoved into his mouth.

Clockwork nodded. "You were told that the Glass City suffered in Pariah's war. You were not told how much. Nearly their entire royal family was wiped out. Their community suffered greatly with the loss of leadership. As their collective Obsession was the well-being of their community, this was unbearable. They looked for ways to replace their royalty. Their solution was to take persons who had traits and skills they found desirable and change them to fit their needs."

There was a pause as Danny shuddered and blanched. He reached for the glass of water.

"They did not, could not, do not, just take anyone, however. It may not seem that way to you, but they do have morals. They select only either the completely willing or those they believe are being abused. That's why they decided they wanted you. Your Obsession would have meshed well with theirs, and they believed that your parents were abusing you. Which, well..."

"Not too far from the truth, is it?" said Danny, miserably. "They just don't know."

Clockwork patted Danny on the shoulder. "If it helps, the people of the Glass City were one of the inspirations for fairies. They are skilled at stealing people."

"It kinda does, I guess. But what am I supposed to do now? I can't- I can't go home like this."

Danny looked up at Clockwork, and for a brief second, doubted him. For a brief second, he imagined that this had been Clockwork's plan all along, that it had been Clockwork's intention to trap him here, and keep him for himself. (If the second had been allowed to last longer, Danny might have been surprised by how little that bothered him.)

"No, but that does not mean that you can't go," said Clockwork. "Eat first, then we can start working on how."


	52. Chapter 52

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Double Date

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Skulker stuck his head out of the portal and looked both ways. The Fenton lab was gleaming and empty. It had clearly been recently cleaned. As far as Skulker was aware, only the whelp and his mother cleaned the place, and when his mother cleaned it, his father was usually right behind with a mess. So. The boy's parents weren't around, but the boy might be. Then again, this was supposedly a weekday, and he should be at school.

Eh, whatever. A hunter took chances. He pulled his head back.

"Yeah," he said, "it's clear for now. Ready to go, baby?"

Ember smirked. "Sure am. How 'bout you, Kitty?"

"I'm good," said the green-haired ghost, crossing her arms, "as long as Johnny keeps that Shadow of his under control."

"Hey, Shadow's always under control!"

"Whatever."

Skulker rolled his eyes internally. Literally internally. He kept the expression off the face of his armor.

"Hey," said Ember, leaning against him. "Ready to tear up that town?"


	53. Chapter 53

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Memories

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The phenomenon wasn't well known, too few ghosts met the prerequisites, but ghosts with sufficiently similar ectosignatures and cores could share worked well for Danny and Dani.

Dani had benefited the most when she had first been made. In the tube she had been grown in, she dreamed of Danny's life. Flashes of light and emotion, sound and meaning. Vlad had told her she was a genius, for progressing through her lessons so quickly, but, in truth, she was just remembering what Danny knew. When they met, she got more. She could remember entire stories, entire incidents, and she had finally understood what was happening.

She had been so afraid Danny could see her memories, too, that he would realize what she was doing, that she was working for Vlad, that she was spying on him, that she going to betray him. But he never seemed to pick up on anything out of the ordinary, not until the trap was sprung.

Afterwards, when she was traveling, she still sometimes wound up with Danny's memories. Glimpses of history and algebra, of ghost fights and days spent with families and friends. She assumed that it was just her.

But it wasn't.

When she next spoke to Danny, he told her about his dreams of Paris, Rome, Beijing, and Tokyo, and his sudden facility with languages he'd never encountered. He thanked her for letting him see them, experience them.

Then he told her a darker story about memory, just in case.

He told her about Dan.


	54. Chapter 54

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Graduation

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Danny laid on his bed, diploma raised over his head so it was framed by the stars painted on the ceiling. "I can't believe it," said Danny. "I can't believe we actually did it. Well, you guys, but me?" He shook his head. "I can't believe it."

"You'd better," said Tucker, "you still have to figure out what you're going to do next."

Danny groaned, then rolled over so that he could see Tucker and Sam, still in their graduation robes, hats tucked under their arms. "I know, just let me drift on my sense of accomplishment here." Sam was going to college, and Tucker had an internship at Axion.

Danny, on the other hand, didn't have the grades for college, and couldn't leave Amity Park, anyway. He couldn't really hold down a normal job, either, with how often he had to run off to fight ghosts. He sighed. He had other offers, though. Just not human ones.

"I'm going to miss you guys."

"Hey," said Tucker, "I'm not actually going anywhere. You don't have to miss me."

"And I'll just be a phone call away."

"It won't be the same," mourned Danny. "And _I_ might not be here all too often."

"I thought you didn't have plans," said Tucker.

Danny shrugged. "I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet, but, well, Clockwork said something about an apprenticeship. I don't know about it, though. I don't want to be too far from here."

"You should take it," said Sam.

"Yeah," agreed Tucker. "You like hanging out with Clockwork, anyway, and I bet he can help you get home in a hurry if you need to."

"Hm," said Danny. He rolled back to look at the ceiling. "I don't want to decide yet. Let's go party."

"Hey, that's what we're here for, right?" said Tucker, bouncing to his feet. "How many hot dogs will we have to beat into submission."

"Based on how excited Mom was, a lot."


	55. Chapter 55

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Ghost Stories

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The English class sat in a wide circle, desks pushed back against the walls, lights off, except for a lamp in the center if the circle, papers held in their laps. It was Halloween, and the assignment had been to write a ghost story. Mr Lancer had thought it would be a good change from the usual essays.

This being Amity Park, the stories weren't exactly traditional, however. They were split rather evenly between accounts of actual, completely real events, speculation about Amity's more famous ghosts, and shameless self-inserts. While the first were often frightening, and the later two could be disturbing (in entirely separate ways), they were lacking a certain... something. Style, perhaps. Mood. A sense of horror.

Mr Lancer supposed he should have expected as much. It was hard to be moved by a traditional ghost story when you faced down the real thing once a week.

Ashley Adamsen finished up her story about how her parents, who ran a moving company, fended off the box ghost, and Mr Lancer sighed.

"That was enlightening, Miss Adamsen. Mr Foley," he said, addressing the next student in the circle, "if you would begin?"

"Sure," he said, glancing at the seat Danny Fenton had vacated several minutes ago. He shuffled his papers together nervously, then leaned forward. "This is a true story, you know. Sam can back me up."

This was met by an unimpressed silence. Many of the stories told thus far had been true.

"Well, anyway," Tucker shot another glance at the empty chair, then at the door, "this happened a little over a year ago before the first invasion. Danny, Sam, and I had all seen ghost before. I think most of you had, too, but we were still, well, skeptical about some things. Like curses and hauntings. Danny, especially, for some reason. I think that his parents dragged him to too many fake haunted houses when he was a kid. I don't know. I never got the chance to find out."

"Tucker," interrupted Sam, "are you sure we should be telling _this_ story? What if _he_ hears?"

Tucker shook his head, his smile brittle. "They've got to know. Besides, you know what is bathroom breaks are like. Anyway, you've all heard about- about Sydney Poindexter, the kid who died in his locker? You've heard about him. Well, Danny, Danny got assigned that locker, locker 724, after a ghost destroyed his. He didn't think it was haunted. If he had just _listened..._ " Tucker trailed off, shaking his head. "He didn't, and, you know, for a while, things were pretty normal. But then things started to happen. Weird things. Like, at first they just seemed like accidents. Like chance. But there was a pattern. I noticed it. Whenever someone was mean to somebody, or played a prank near that locker, something bad would happen to them, and it wasn't exactly _proportionate._ Remember when Ryan, Ryan who graduated, broke his arm? That was right after he'd put a 'kick me' sign on a band kid.

"Danny was in the middle of a prank war with Dash back then. You know how he was. But he got closer to the locker than anyone else, and one day, he changed. He wasn't- he wasn't Danny anymore. He-" Tucker paused, distraught. "Do you remember, that day, when Danny gave free sodas to everyone, and somehow beat you all in PE?

"Sam and I knew something was wrong, but we didn't know what. It could have just been a normal thing, people change in high school, but... We knew it wasn't, we knew that it had something to do with that locker. We went to investigate, we thought that if we knew what had happened, we could undo it, or get his parents to undo it.

"But as soon as we got there, we heard a voice coming from the locker. Danny's voice. At first we just thought that he had gotten shut in there again, because he was saying something about being trapped, but we had just left him behind us, just left him with you guys.

"Sam opened his locker, she's gotten his combination, but... There was nothing. He wasn't in there. But we could still hear his voice.

"You see, the thing that had been left with you, it wasn't Danny. It was Poindexter. Poindexter, learning how to be Danny, how to act like Danny. We tried to stop it, we really did, but as the day went on, Danny's voice got fainter, and fainter. Then he was gone, and all that was left was-"

The door slammed open. In the doorway stood Danny Fenton, eyes gleaming faintly green.

"Aw, Tuck, you started your story without me?"

There was silence, and a faint squeak. Someone dropped a pencil. A couple people were visibly shaking.

Tucker was the one who broke first, snickering. Then, Sam doubled over. Finally, Danny himself cracked, a wide grin spreading over his face. "I _told_ you the contact lenses would be worth it," he said, rubbing at his eyes. When he brought them up again, they were blue. "So, does Tucker get an A? Mr Lancer." The grin faded. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," said Mr Lancer, feeling shaken.

"Here's the script," said Tucker, wheezing, handing over the paper.

"But-" said Mr Lancer, faltering when he saw that it was indeed a script, with the words 'DID NOT ACTUALLY HAPPEN LIKE THIS' written across the top. "This didn't happen 'like this?'"

"Well," said Danny, "I did get possessed that day, but, like, the thing with the locker and my voice getting fainter? Nah. And Poindexter got booted back to the GZ." He waved his hand through the air. "With all the ghost detectors Mom and Dad have, do you really think a ghost could get away with that, anyway? Not a chance."

"Whatever, Fenton," said Dash, dismissively, "I knew you and your weirdo friends were just faking."

"Mr Baxter," scolded Mr Lancer. "Mr Fenton, sit down. I appreciate what you've done to aid your friend, but I do hope you have a story of your own, since you are next."

"Yep," said Danny, pulling out a creased sheet of paper. "So, should I just start, or..?"

"Yes, Mr Fenton."

Danny cleared his throat. "Um. Once upon a time," Danny's classmates snickered, he continued on, "there was an alchemist. He wanted to poke a hole in reality. He got two other scientists to help him, and they built a machine to let them do that. But something went wrong. One of the alchemists made a mistake, and reality poked back.

"The alchemist slept for years and years. His family either died, or moved away. The other scientists stopped visiting him.

"Eventually, he woke up. But he wasn't whole anymore. There were bits of his soul missing, and he was angry, really angry. He decided that someone needed to pay for what had happened to him, for all his lost time.

"He found the alchemists who had helped him, and saw that they were happy, with a family. He watched, and waited, and plotted, and he decided that the best way to make the people he hated hurt, was to take their children. So he did.

"The alchemists hunted him down. They loved their children, and they knew what had changed the man better than anyone else. They saved their children.

"But you can't kill something that doesn't have a soul. So the man waits, imprisoned, even now, waiting, because no prison can last forever. When he is finally freed, he will destroy each and every one of the alchemists' descendants." Danny finished by folding the paper back up.

"Is that it?"

"Er, yeah. I, um, didn't have a lot of time, exactly."

"That didn't stop _us._ "

"Whatever," interrupted Sam. "It's my turn, now, isn't it?"

"Yes, Miss Manson."

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Five minutes later, the class filed out of the room, white-faced and shaking. Miss Manson certainly had a way with words, Mr Lancer had to admit, but he wasn't going to give out that assignment ever again.


	56. Chapter 56

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Blood Blossoms

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It was such an innocuous looking little thing. It just sat there, in its terracotta pot on the kitchen table, orange-red petals bright against dark purple leaves. It didn't move, or glow, or do anything to signify how dangerous it was.

Danny barely dared to breathe, frozen as he was in the kitchen doorway.

"Mom," he said, trying to casual, like he wasn't staring down something he had last seen in colonial America. "What is that?"

Maddie Fenton, scientist, inventor, ghost hunter, and mother, turned from the sink where she was washing dishes and smiled at her son.

"What's what?" she asked. "And when did you get home? I didn't hear you come in."

"Just a few minutes ago," said Danny, purposefully vague. "What are those, on the table?"

"Oh," said Maddie. "Those are blood blossoms. We ordered them from a specialist a few weeks ago, and they just came. Aren't they pretty?"

"Why did you get them?"

"They're mentioned in one of the old Fenton family journals. They're supposed to have natural ghost-repelling properties. Your father and I want to see if that's true, and if we can replicate those properties."

"Cool," said Danny. A bead of sweat dripped down the back of his neck. "I'm just gonna go upstairs to, um, work on homework."

"Alright," said Maddie. A quirk in her lip told Danny she was confused (he couldn't see much else of her face, it was obscured by her usual hood). "Dinner will be in two hours, okay?"

"Okay," said Danny, backing away.

As soon as he was out of sight, he took the stairs at speed, just keeping himself from literally flying up them. He stopped dead in front of Jazz's door, and started knocking. Jazz opened it. She had something like nine pencils stuck in her hair.

Danny decided to ask her about that later. "I need your help."

"With what, English? Math?"

"No. Mom and Dad bought an evil hell-plant, and I need you to destroy it."

"Um."

"It hurts ghosts and I don't want to touch it."

Jazz grimaced and rubbed an eye. "Okay. I can do that, but where is it?"

"On the kitchen table."

"Is Mom watching?"

"Yeah, she's in there."

Jazz licked her lips. "I can't do it while she's watching. Can you hold out until tonight, while they're asleep?"

"Yeah," said Danny. "It won't affect me while I'm in human form, I think. Probably."

"Okay. I should be able to get rid of it tonight, then."

"Thanks."

.

Danny woke up to Jazz knocking on his door. He blearily opened the door. What time was it, anyway? Early. Definitely early.

"What?" he asked.

"I screwed up."

Danny stared. It wasn't every day that Jazz admitted she messed up. "Huh?"

"Mom, it must've been Mom, she's got the plant in this little greenhouse. It's, um, very secure. Locked."

"Oh. Oh no." All the terrible, blood blossom related scenarios he'd run through earlier that day came back to him. "Show me. Maybe I can get through."

It turned out he couldn't. There was a ghost shield. Danny and Jazz retired uneasily. There wasn't any way for them to get rid of the plants, not now, not yet. They'd have to wait, and keep an eye out for a chance, and any weapons they made from the blood blossoms.

But nothing seemed to come of the flowers, and there was never a chance, so Danny and Jazz sort of forgot about them.

.

"This is an old Fenton family recipe!" boomed Jack over the dinner table. "It's been in the family for over a hundred years." He set the pot down on the table. "We only just got all the ingredients put together. Some of them were pretty weird."

The children eyed the soup with some trepidation.

"It isn't going to come alive, is it?" asked Jazz.

"No, no," said Maddie. "We think we've come up with a way to fix that."

Well, Danny was hungry. He'd take the risk. He started spooning soup into his mouth. It had a weird flavor, but wasn't completely unpleasant. But at the fourth spoonful, his eyes slid out of focus, and he couldn't get them to work again. He blinked a few time and frowned. His tongue was feeling a little prickly, too.

"Mom? What's in this?"

"A lot of things," said Maddie, distracted. "Carrots, celery, basil, blood blossoms-"

Danny dropped his spoon and stood up. "Bathroom!"

He took a step in that direction, and immediately fell over. Ah. His vision was going dim, now, too. That was really just... wonderful... great...

.

He came to in a hospital.

"What?" he said, voice slightly slurred.

"Hey," said Jazz softly. "You're in a hospital."

"Yah. Why?"

"You had an allergic reaction to, well, the blood blossoms. You had to get your stomach pumped. And, you know, epinephrine shots."

"Oh," said Danny. "D'you think they'll get rid of them now?" He looked around. "Where are they, anyway?"

Jazz gestured to the floor, and Danny sat up a little to look. Jack and Maddie were wrapped in sleeping bags on the floor. Danny dropped back to the bed. "Gross," he said. "Shouldn't sleep on the floor. It's a hospital."

"Just go to back to sleep, Danny," said Jazz.

"But will they get rid of the blood blossoms?"

"Probably, now that they know you're allergic. I hope they do, anyway."

"Do they, um, they don't think that I'm..?"

"No. They don't. Not that they said. I'm sure it will be fine, and I'm always right."

"Wow. Confident much, sis?"

"Just go back to sleep, Danny."


	57. Chapter 57

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Ghost Speak

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"Put that down," snapped Ghostwriter. "You wouldn't be able to read it anyway, much less understand it."

Danny looked up, offended, at his unwilling teacher. "What do you mean? Is it like, cursed or magic or something? Or is it, like, super technical?"

"No, it's in Esperanto. Now come over here, and give me-"

"I speak Esperanto."

"Excuse me?"

Danny frowned. He had been taking lessons on ghost culture and English from Ghostwriter for the past few weeks, at Clockwork's behest, and he and the older ghost were still not exactly getting along. Ghostwriter knew his business, but he could be mean and dismissive, and he would take Danny's English assignments and make them a dozen times harder. It was sort of to be expected, Clockwork was essentially forcing him to teach Danny, but still. Danny was starting to get tired of it.

"I can speak Esperanto. And read it, incidentally."

Ghostwriter looked skeptical. "Go ahead, then."

Danny flipped the offending book open. _"It was in the old Realm of Tuaut that first the Father of Curses, King of Maladies, did come into being-"_

"Stop," said Ghostwriter. "Your pronunciation is atrocious. How and why did you learn?"

"My pronunciation is fine, according to literally everyone else I've talked to," said Danny. "I learned because I have friends who speak it, and I learned in the usual way. You know. Practicing. I'm not an idiot. I just don't have a lot of time to do homework."

Ghostwriter's eyes narrowed. "What else do you know?"

"You're going to have to be more specific," said Danny, purposefully missing the point.

Ghostwriter drummed his fingers on the table. "Languages, Phantom," he snapped.

"Well, English, a bit of Latin, a bit of Chinese, Spanish, and enough French to go shopping, and Elysian Greek."

Ghostwriter's glare intensified. "That's disgusting."

"Why?"

After a moment, Ghostwriter admitted, "I only know four."

Danny considered gloating, but decided not to. "Which four?" he asked, finally sliding into his seat in front at the table.

"English, of course, Latin, Esperanto..." He paused. " **And this. Can you understand this?** "

Danny blinked several times. " **Yes. W-Wait. What.** " Danny's hand went to his mouth. " **What?** " His lips formed unfamiliar shapes.

Ghostwriter just shook his head. " **Disgusting.** "

 _" **What?** "_ repeated Danny, somewhat alarmed. " **What's going on?** "

"Not every ghost can do that," said Ghostwriter in English. Was it English? Danny wasn't sure. "For most, it takes time to pick up the native tongue."

" **The what?** " Danny shook his head. " **The what? The wh** at? The what?" He repeated until his words sounded normal again.

"The native tongue. The true language of ghosts." Ghostwriter waved his hand. "It doesn't matter. Give me your assignments for this week."

.

Danny dropped out of the sky invisibly to sit between Sam and Tucker. He became visible. His friends, used to this, did not react. They were in Tucker's attic, where they had arranged to meet after Danny finished his lesson with Ghostwriter.

"Hey, guys. How's it going?"

This _did_ get a reaction.

"Um," said Tucker, eyes wide behind his glasses. "What?"

"What what?" asked Danny, confused.

"What kind of sound is that?" asked Sam, shoulders hunched like she wanted to cover her ears.

"Uh," said Danny. "English? Is this not..." He trailed off as his friends' faces became even more confused. "It isn't. Okay." Crud. He shouldn't have let Ghostwriter distract him with homework. He bet the old ghost had done this on purpose.

"Danny," said Sam, cautiously. "Can you not... speak English right now?"

"No."

Incomprehension.

He frowned and shook his head. Ghostwriter had better have a way to fix this.


	58. Chapter 58

**This is in the HAZMAT AU. See chapters 23, 24, 27, and 41 for more!**

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Fashion

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Sunlight flashed off of a dozen goggles in the school courtyard. Danny felt his eye twitch. It felt like there was something stuck in his throat.

When and why had it become cool to wear HAZMAT, and not very good HAZMAT at that, to school? Danny remembers the last time his parents had forced him to wear _his_ suit to school, all the way back in third grade. He was fairly certain the incident had cemented his status as the class freak, something that had stuck with him up into high school.

He turned his head to follow a particularly fake-looking costume.

"Wow," said Sam. "You've created a new fashion movement. Congratulations."

Danny snapped his jaw closed. He wasn't sure when it had dropped. "What are you talking about?" He lowered his voice and whispered. "I've been in the public eye for months. Why now?"

"Because now they know that you're hot under all that HAZMAT," said Tucker. "Young Tom Cruise, remember."

"I don't look anything like Tom Cruise," grumbled Danny. "You can tell that even from a distance. Stupid computer club... Stupid Photoshop..."

Tucker patted Danny on the back. "I feel you man."

"Yeah, only you could manage to start a fashion movement and still be the least popular kid in school." Sam raised a finger to her lips. "I do like this a lot better that the stupid vanilla and pink garbage."

"It looks awful," said Danny. "I think that one was made out of a _tarp_."

Sam started walking again, prompting the other two to start. "Still more interesting. So, what've you decided about the superhero thing?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "No matter how cool Tucker thinks it would be, I can't take fifteen minutes to strip down to spandex every time a ghost shows up."

"Hey," said Tucker, "you're the one who brought it up."

"I like the extra protection, anyway, and the less people see Phantom, the less chance they have of connecting him to me."

"Yeah," said Sam, as they reached their lockers. "That's true. But, you know, people are going to be trying to get a look at your face all the time, now. That's just how people work. They're curious."

"I know," said Danny, remembering how this had started in the first place. The portal. Wondering what cool things might lie just beyond it. "I know."


	59. Chapter 59

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Vacation

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Fenton family vacations rarely went as planned. One of Danny's earliest memories was of learning the meaning of the phrase 'blacklisted from every tourist destination in the state.' Thankfully, that only applied to Jack and Maddie, so Jazz and Danny could still go to the pool and the local history museum. Other than that, Jack and Maddie weren't terribly inclined to drive long distances just so Danny and Jazz could, for example, go to the air and space museum, a theme park, camping, or anything like that.

In the first place, most of their vacations were to supposedly haunted places. Working vacations, in other words. Danny and Jazz typically stayed as far as possible from that work, and spent the whole time either bored from inactivity or stressed from long car rides and lack of sleep.

Thus far, there had been three exceptions to this rule. One had been the trip to Vlad's for the reunion. The second had been to the mother/son science symposium (also hijacked by Vlad). The third was only undertaken because everyone thought Danny was going crazy, and they'd nearly been killed by Youngblood several times. The third had been one of the more successful vacations, too.

Danny didn't have high hopes for the _current_ vacation.

Although, it was possible that his pessimism was caused more by the prospect of being away from Amity Park for an extended period of time than his general distrust of vacations. He shuddered to think what Vlad was going to do in his absence, and he was worried about Sam and Tucker getting over their heads with a ghost fight. He was considering faking an illness so that he could stay.

Jazz, however, would see right through that, not to mention Sam and Tucker, and they all seemed to think that he needed a vacation. So Danny reluctantly packed his bag and got into the GAV.

The plan was to go to up to Ann Arbor, Michigan, and just do 'touristy things.' To Danny, that translated to 'we didn't plan anything.' Whatever. Danny hadn't made plans, either. He hadn't the faintest idea what was even in Ann Arbor.

He slouched down in his seat. He planned to sleep for as long as possible and mentally skip the car ride.

.

Danny's ghost sense went off. He kept his eyes shut, feeling anything but rested. He stretched, and worked a kink out of his shoulder. Now, how should he handle this. Bathroom, maybe? That had worked last time.

He rubbed his eyes. "Mom, Dad?"

He didn't get an answer, so he opened his eyes. Then he closed them again, hard. Nope. He didn't see that. He opened his eyes again, all trace of sleepiness gone. His parents and sister were unconscious, heads lolling. The view out the front window was green. Green, and not the green of grass, trees, or any other plant. It was Ghost Zone green. Because that's where they were. The Ghost Zone.

Why was he not surprised? Sure, the odds of a natural portal opening up on the one and only family to contain a half-ghost seemed pretty astronomical, but being a half-ghost was pretty out there to begin with, so, yeah, sure, why not? Why _shouldn't_ this happen to him on top of everything else? Maybe it wasn't even a coincidence. This sounded like a 'Vlad' thing.

He found the seat belt buckle, and disengaged it. That wasn't necessarily a given on most days, with all the automation and upgrades on the GAV, and he thanked the powers that be that at least that little thing was going right.

"Mom," he said, tapping his mother on the shoulder. None of them looked hurt, or else he would be freaking out _way_ more than he already was. "Mom?"

Maddie groaned.

"Mom," he repeated. "You have to wake up."

"What is it, sweetie?" asked Maddie.

"Mom, wake up."

Maddie opened her eyes, and Danny knew exactly when she noticed where she was by the way she stiffened.

"How..."

"I don't know, I was asleep." Danny sat down, and started poking his sister. "Jazz, wake up."

"Don't worry, Danny," said Maddie. "We're experts. We'll get out of this."

Well, sure, but it wasn't so much 'we,' as 'Danny,' and he wasn't sure where they were. Somewhere far from Amity Park.

Some vacation.


	60. Chapter 60

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Favorite Prompt

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Ghost King (Phanniemay 2014)

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The ghosts must have retained more of their previously-human consciousness than Maddie had originally theorized, because, when she and Jack were captured, and taken to the Ghost Zone, they were not immediately eaten, tortured, killed, or used to satiate a ghost's Obsession. Instead they, like the dozens of other prisoners captured in the battle, were brought to a prison.

The prison wasn't quite like any other Maddie had seen. It was definitely a prison, yes, with tall walls, barbed wire, and searchlights. Maddie could see all that clearly from where she sat, bound, in the cart. The _flying_ cart, because the Ghost Zone lacked what Maddie would traditionally label the ground. Instead it was composed of a great deal of green fog, a lot of empty space, sets of stairs that led nowhere, doors that did the same, and floating islands. The prison was on one of the last, and it was also bright pink. Maddie couldn't even begin to guess why.

Truthfully, that was the case for the whole situation. Maddie couldn't understand why or how ghosts would even have a structure like this. To satisfy an Obsession, perhaps, but then why use humans, and not more-durable, less-needy ghosts?

... unless the alpha ghost (a group this big had to have an alpha) did not understand that humans had physical needs. That was possible, though quite a chilling thought. Maddie still had a daughter back in the real world, and the prospect of dying of thirst or starvation was not one she looked on fondly.

They grew closer to the prison, and Maddie's mouth grew dry as she took in the size of the thing, and the number of ghosts patrolling its walls. There must have been dozens, maybe even hundreds.

Maddie thought back to the time Amity Park had been invaded and pulled into the Ghost Zone by the self-proclaimed King of All Ghosts. Jack and Maddie had dismissed the claim as typical ghost megalomania. All their evidence showed that ghosts lacked the capacity to form all but the most rudimentary societies. Even for the relatively intelligent examples, their evil inner natures would preclude it. But now, after seeing this, Maddie would have to adjust her theories. She longed to talk to Jack, but he was in another cart.

The carts didn't bother with landing outside the walls. There weren't any gates. They set down in the prison courtyard. The guards pulled their captives from the carts, and lined them up. A ghost with a clipboard came around, examining each one, and making notes. Everyone in military or GIW uniform was pulled out of line and put back on the carts. Scientists, technicians, and others in civilian clothing were being left on the ground, and herded into a smaller group.

A large, powerfully built ghost strode into the courtyard. Its skin was shrunken against its nonexistent skull, and was as white as the suit it wore. Other ghosts followed it. Two in police uniform, and one younger-looking one in a suit-top and skirt.

"These are the new arrivals?" asked the large ghost, examining them through narrow green eyes.

"Yes, sir," said the ghost with the clipboard.

The large ghost nodded sharply, and clasped its hands behind its back. "I," boomed the ghost, "am Walker. I am the warden of this prison. You are prisoners of the crown, and y'all will be staying here until such a time as it's decided you would be better placed elsewhere." The ghost smiled. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine, so long as y'all follow the rules."

.

The rules of the ghost prison were surprisingly mundane, although there were a lot of them. Things like lights out, no food outside of mealtimes, no running in the halls.

After the rules were read, they were stripped, searched, and showered. Then they were given generic black and white striped prison uniforms, and brought to individual cells. The cells were, again, not quite what Maddie had expected. They weren't open cages, but tiny, windowless rooms with thick, sturdy doors, and no inside handles. There was enough room in the cell for a bed, built into the wall, but little else.

Maddie sat on the bed and waited. There was little else she could do. She had tried to hide something- anything- during the search, but the guards had been thorough. They had used intangibility.

There was a loud sound, like a horn. Someone in the hall shouted "Mealtime!"

A slat in the cell door was pulled open. "Stand by the wall," ordered a red-eyed ghost.

Maddie, grudgingly, complied. The door swung open.

"C'mon," said the ghost. "You humans gotta eat, apparently."

Maddie slowly walked out of the cell, and joined the line of people streaming down the hallway under the watchful red eyes of the ghosts. She scanned the crowd for people she knew, and was surprised. There were many more people than had come in on the carts. And, there, that was Michelle Howard. Maddie had worked with her before. She'd been a researcher in New York, before the ghosts took out the military facility she was stationed at. That man there was Derek Nim, a famous 'psychic.' Maddie hadn't known he'd been taken, hadn't even known he'd been working for the cause, but she had known that the government had turned to psychics, to _anything_ that could help in the fight against the ghost, and she didn't know everything that happened in the war.

She didn't see Jack.

They funneled into a large room, one set up with long tables and benches, all screwed into the floor. It was a cafeteria. At first, Maddie was surprised by the lack of guards in the room, then she realized the guards were overhead, flying. Of course.

The servers in the cafeteria were human, and the food looked normal, if bland and unappealing. Maddie got into line, still looking for Jack. There were still people coming in.

Her eyes snagged on one of the men sitting at a table. That was Lucas Cho. Like Michelle, she'd been sure that he'd been dead. Unlike Michelle, Maddie and Jack knew Lucas well, and had worked with him frequently. The ghosts had taken him during their attack on the San Francisco Ghost Hunter's Conference, over half a year ago.

Finally, she saw Jack enter the room, through the same door she had used. She sighed in relief, and continued through the line to receive her 'food.'

Lucas looked up in surprise when she set her flimsy plastic tray down across the table from his. "Maddie," he said. "I didn't think I'd ever see you here."

"That's the same for both of us, then, I thought you were dead."

"Ha. No." Lucas looked up briefly, and Maddie followed his eyes to one of the floating guards. "Doesn't look like I'll be going soon, either, for better or worse. Is Jack here with you?"

"Yes," said Maddie, indicating the large man with a nod of her head. "Lucas, what is this place?"

"It's a prison. But you knew that already." Lucas shook his head. "The ghosts are much more socially complex than we had hypothesized. You won't see them here, but apparently the other half of the prison is full of ghosts."

"But why?" asked Maddie.

"Breaking some kind of ghost law." Lucas's expression was bitterer than she had ever seen it, but then, being held captive by ghosts for six months would do that to a person. "The Ghost King is real, you see. Either that, or all these ghosts are telling the same lie, and I can't see that happening, no matter how organized they are."

"That- that changes everything," said Maddie.

"Does it, though? It isn't like we can tell anyone who could do anything. We're stuck here."

Before Maddie could respond to that, Jack came to sit beside her, pulling her into a brief, but heartfelt, hug. "I thought you were gone," he said, "when they separated us." His voice was quiet. Since the disappearance of Danny, their son, Jack had lost most of his former vivacity and volume.

"I'm not. I wasn't."

Jack pulled away with a watery smile, then turned to Lucas. "So," he said, in a harsh whisper, "what's the plan?"

"What plan?" asked Lucas.

"The plan to get out," said Jack. "Come on, I know you aren't the kind of guy who would just let himself rot here. You've got to be in on it."

Lucas shook his head. "There's no plan."

Jack's face fell. "You don't trust us?"

"It isn't about that. There just isn't a plan. What kind of a plan could we have, anyway?"

"We could build something," proposed Maddie. "Look at all the people here. At least a quarter are weapons experts."

"And what could we build weapons with?" asked Lucas, calmly. "These plastic spoons? Our bed sheets? All of this is real-world stuff. Even if you ground this," he waved his spoon, "into a shiv, it wouldn't do you any good. The ghosts would just phase through it."

"But what about- There's always some kind of black market in prisons," said Maddie.

"Sure, if you're talking about illicit candy bars. But this isn't a movie, and it isn't a human prison. In human prisons, you have visitors, outside resources, like money and influence, guards you can bribe and get favors from. There's no 'guy who can get things.'"

Maddie felt her heart fall. "You mean, there's no way to get anything?"

"No, and there's worse. There's a ghost they call Silhouette, she can read minds and comes through every other week."

"'She?'"

Lucas made a face. "It's easier that way. I know it's against common protocol, but it isn't as if that matters here. There were a couple guys who tried to Shawshank themselves out. They got caught, the walls re-poured. They were put in solitary. A woman tried to, and yes, this is disgusting, offer _favors_ to one of the guards. Solitary. Some guys had a plan, but they were caught by Silhouette."

"So, you're saying there's nothing?" said Jack.

"Pretty much." Lucas's brow furrowed. "You two..." He looked up, checking for guards. "You two, before, didn't you tell me, you're from," he looked up, "Amity Park?"

"Yes, why?" said Maddie.

"Shoot. I'm so sorry."

Maddie blinked. "Why? What's wrong with Amity Park?"

"Nothing, it's just..." Lucas glanced around again. "Everyone from Amity Park gets taken away."

"To where?"

"No one knows," said Lucas, shrugging.

"Well, we aren't really _from_ Amity Park. We moved there in our twenties," said Jack.

"Doesn't matter. It's everyone who ever lived there, even if it was only for a couple months."

"But, why?"

"I don't know, and we really shouldn't be talking about it here," said Lucas, leaning forward. "There's a chance you can fool Silhouette and Walker during your interrogation. Look. Just. What's it like back home? How bad are things?"

Maddie and Jack exchanged glances. "It's bad," said Maddie, finally. "We still haven't been able to figure out how they're making portals, any they're coming more often. They're hitting even the secret bases. We thought they were instinctively drawn to high concentrations of ectoplasm. But if they have sophisticated interrogations..."

Lucas actually laughed. "Yeah, in retrospect the ectoplasm theory is stupid, isn't it? They have so much, you can feel it in the air. What else?"

"Essentially every military is paralyzed. The government's gone underground since that attack near DC. Storm ghosts are making overseas travel impossible. There's some technology ghost corrupting any computer that doesn't have specific protections- no, you knew that. We've heard some things about what's going on in China- _that's_ gotten worse. There are supposed to be whole towns in western China and the Koreas that ghosts have taken over. Dozens."

"We've gotten in contact with them again? China, I mean."

"Not really. We got some refugees... But nothing really reputable, I suppose."

"Well. We haven't had too many more Chinese captives here, if that means anything to you," said Lucas.

"No," said Maddie. She shook her head. She needed more information. "This Ghost King, do you know anything else about it? The GIW theory is that its authority comes from some kind of bond with the Ghost Zone. I could never understand how they came up with that, but if it's true... The _implications-_ "

"Mealtime's over!" shouted one of the guards. "Line up!"

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The slat in the door to Maddie's cell was pulled open again, startling her from an uneasy doze. "Get up," said the ghost outside. "Stand by the wall."

Maddie stumbled to comply, chaffing at the indignity of needing to obey a ghost. The ghost opened her cell, and pulled her out. She was handcuffed, and marched down the hallway. A trio of guards were waiting with Jack at the end of the hall.

"What's going on?" demanded Maddie.

"That's the Warden's business," said one guard, roughly, flatly.

They were brought out of the part of the prison with the cells, and into a more office-like area. They were maneuvered into something that just _screamed_ 'interrogation room.' The guards attached their handcuffs to the table, and then left.

"What now?" asked Jack.

"I don't know," said Maddie. "Maybe the mind reader is here?"

The door opened again, and three ghosts came in. One was the warden, Walker. The other two were feminine in appearance. The first was the one Maddie had seen earlier that day, almost human but for its gray skin and button eyes. The second was entirely black, like it had been cut from a shadow.

"What do you want?" asked Maddie.

"We want to know what you know," said Walker. "And Dolly and Silhouette here are going to figure that all out." He smiled. "Don't even think about lying. That's against the rules, and I'm sure a pair of lovebirds like you want to stay together."

.

"So, Amity Park, huh?" said the dark one, halfway through a completely unrelated line of questioning.

"Ooh. Daddy's not going to be happy about that," said the one with button eyes. "He hates giving up his prisoners."

"Not that much. Not if they've served their time, and these are prisoners of war, anyway. They belong to the crown."

"Sure, but still. He's gonna sulk~"

"Not that much," repeated the dark one. "But if you don't want to tell him, you'd better get to calling up the feds."

" _Tech_ nically speaking, they're not _feds_."

Maddie glared at the two ghosts, carrying on with their conversation, as if she and Jack weren't even there. She didn't especially want to draw attention, either, but the casual rudeness annoyed her.

"Don't worry, we're not ignoring you. You'd better get used to the idea of moving real fast, though."

.

They were loaded into a carriage, this time, one with closed walls. Jack and Maddie were kept together, though they were bound hand and foot. The guards, these ones skeletons in military dress uniforms, stayed outside, and didn't seem to care if Jack and Maddie talked. So they talked. They whispered and planned, and discarded those plans. It was impossible to fight ghosts without any equipment. They didn't even have their suits anymore.

There were no windows in the carriage, so when the carriage came to a halt, and Maddie and Jack were ushered out, the tall, sheer, castle walls came as a bit of a surprise. The ghosts, their hands firmly on Jack and Maddie's shoulders, steered them towards a tall set of doors which opened silently. They found themselves in a long hallway lined with murals, which were interrupted only by doors set in the walls and the murder-holes in the ceiling. There was another set of doors at the far end, this one chased with silver.

The murals were very fine. Too fine. The design, though it included ghosts and other monsters, must have been taken from some human palace. Ghosts weren't capable of art. Not on this level.

Maddie and Jack were propelled through the silver doors, and into a small waiting room that was even more baroque than the hall. There were three other sets of doors, one for each wall. The ones to the left and right were gold, or something very like gold, the one straight ahead was silver again.

The room had one ghostly occupant, a green-skinned creature in a butler's uniform. It nodded to the guards. "I will tell his majesty that you have arrived," it intoned, before slipping through the silver doors.

'His majesty.' This was the Ghost King's castle. The thought sent a chill through Maddie. If the Ghost King was truly the same as the one that had attacked Amity Park all that time ago, it made sense that it would want people from Amity Park. They had defied it, defeated it, once before, and a ghost like this wouldn't abide the threat to its authority.

They were going to be executed.

"Maddie," said Jack, clearly reaching the same conclusion, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

The silver doors opened. "He's ready," said the butler ghost.

The room beyond the second set of silver doors could only be described as a throne room. The walls and vaulted ceiling were distant, their no-doubt intricate designs impossible to make out. A plush, blue carpet lay down the center of the room, leading up to a dais upon which a throne rested. On the throne, rested a ghost, and even at this great distance Maddie could tell it wasn't the ghost who had invaded Amity Park. It was much too small, practically dwarfed by the massive throne.

As they grew closer, other details made themselves known to Maddie. The little table set to the right of the throne, a steaming tea service on it. The large book resting on the opposite arm. The way the throne was draped with blankets and stuffed with pillows. The Ghost King's clothing, so much simpler than its surroundings, black turtleneck, black slacks, black socks, black gloves, ice-white flowers in its hair. The way the Ghost King sat, stiff and expectant.

The Ghost King's face.

Its face.

Its face.

By the time they reached the bottom of the dais, and the guards forced her and Jack to their knees, Maddie was trembling in rage.

"How dare you?" she spat. "How dare you-"

One of the guards shook her, hard. "Don't you talk to the king like that, human!"

"Arnold, stop," said the king. It turned its gaze to the other guards. "Thank you for bringing them to me. You can go. I will be fine."

The skeletal guards hesitated but then left, floating back down the length of the room.

"How dare you wear our son's face?"

The ghost blinked at her with Danny's huge, perfectly blue eyes. The ghost was wearing Danny's face, looking just exactly the same as it had been the last time Maddie had seen Danny. That's how Maddie knew, without any doubt at all, that the thing on the throne was not her son. It looked like a teenager, a young teenager, at that. If Danny had lived all these years as a captive of ghosts, he would be in his twenties.

"Excuse me," said the ghost, "this is _my_ face, thank you very much." He- _it-_ frowned. "This isn't how I wanted our first meeting to go. What I expected, sure, but not what I wanted. May I offer you some tea?" It gestured to the pot with a gloved hand.

Maddie stared at the ghost, her face twisting into an expression of incredulity. "You kidnap us, impersonate our son, and then ask us about _tea?_ What are you playing at?"

"We're tied up, anyway," said Jack. "We couldn't take your tea."

"I'm not impersonating anyone," insisted the ghost. It mimicked the tone of restrained aggravation well, but then, Maddie shouldn't be surprised that a shapeshifter like it was also a skilled actor. "As for your bonds," the ghost trailed off, and twirled a hand. Maddie felt the ropes around her wrists simply dissolve.

She and Jack exchanged a glance. As one, they stood, turned, and ran. They didn't get very far. They bounced right off of a green, elastic shield.

"Are you alright?" asked the ghost.

"What do you want?" demanded Maddie, making sure she didn't lean against the shield, no matter how much she wanted to push herself away from the ghost. It could dismiss the shield at any moment, and then she'd fall. It would be a typical example of casual ghostly cruelty.

"A lot of different things, actually," said the ghost, standing smoothly from the throne. It adjusted the hem of his shirt, and walked down the steps of the dais. It didn't stop until it stood right in front of Maddie. "Peace. My family. Safety for my people."

This close to him, Maddie could see that there were differences between it and Danny. It had scars Danny hadn't, a fork of lightning licking the left side of his face, little white cuts. The circles under its eyes were much darker, its skin paler. Somehow, seeing these differences made Maddie more uncomfortable, more unsure about the ghost's identity, not less.

The ghost reached out and took Maddie's hand. Through its glove, its skin was cold- but not nearly as cold as it should have been, nor as hot. Ghosts were usually either frigid or scalding hot. This ghost was neither. It was much closer to _human_ body temperature than it should have been.

Its grip was firm as it pulled Maddie's hand forward, and up to it neck. It straightened Maddie's fingers and pressed them against the side of its throat. She could feel the faint ridges of scars slide under her fingers. The ghost tilted its head to one side, eyes half lidded, a faint smile on its face.

"Do you feel it?" it asked, voice low, almost purring.

Maddie tried to pull her hand back, but the ghost kept it there, firm.

"Let go of my wife, you-!"

Jack's attack was pointless, stopped by another green shield. He pounded on the shield.

"Do you feel it?" asked the ghost again.

Maddie's lips curled. What was it expecting her to feel? A pulse? It was dead. That wasn't... possible... no...

"You feel it, don't you?" said the... Whatever it was. Its smile grew broader, and Maddie could see that its teeth were just a touch sharper than human. But only a touch.

"That's not possible. That's not..." Maddie shook her head. The... It. He. Whatever, let her snatch her hand back. She held it close to her body, like it had been burned.

"Maddie? What is it?"

"A pulse."

"It turns out," said the boy with Danny's face, "that you don't strictly need to be a ghost, to be Ghost King. It's a bit of a weird loophole, but there it is."

"What are you?"

The boy shrugged.

"Who are you?" Maddie asked, voice significantly lower.

The boy shrugged again. "Clockwork calls me Daniel, sometimes, if that means anything to you." He took a step back, worrying at his gloves. The shields disappeared. One hand snuck upwards, as if to rub at the back of his neck, but he forced it back down.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Jack, clearly seeing the same thing that she was. "This war."

"It wasn't my idea."

Maddie's mind was racing. This _couldn't_ be. He had demonstrated ghostly powers. Abilities impossible for a human. A human with his body temperature would be hypothermic. But that _pulse._

Overshadowing. Long-term. That was the only reasonable explanation for the... She could only call it _blending_. The ghost aspects seeping through into the human body, the lack of aging. That was worse. Yet, she couldn't accept that. Despite all logic telling her that this was some kind of trick, a trap, she wanted to believe that this was Danny. Was this just hope and wishful thinking warping her thoughts, or was she picking up some deeper clue.

For now, she would play along.

"What do you remember?" asked Maddie, trying to stay gentle. It took a conscious effort.

"I remember the stars, and the night. They were like the lights in Nocturne's cloak, and the Celestial Sea. I've gone sailing on the Celestial Sea. It's dark and huge. I remember going to school. Writing things. Numbers. I had friends, two of them. They were always with me. I remember the park, how it smelled alive and green. I remember my sister. Her hair was red like yours, but more like fire. I remember Thanksgiving. The turkey always came to life. I remember..." He trailed off, rubbing his chest. "I remember, Amity Park. I remember the danger. Everyone was in danger, all the time." He cut off with a whine. "I remember being taken. I remember that it hurt and I wanted it to stop, and..." The boy trailed off, the front of his shirt clenched in a fist. "I didn't want anyone else to be hurt."

He was even breathing hard. If this was an act, it was the best she'd ever seen, and she'd uncovered more than a few shapeshifters.

"It's okay," she said, her gentleness less forced. "You can stop it now."

"I'm trying. I'm trying."

"You..." the words were hard for Maddie to say. "You're the King of Ghosts, right?"

The boy nodded. "Yes," he said.

"Why don't you just tell them to stop? Why not just keep them from attacking the real world?"

The boy tilted his head to the side. "Why would I do that?"

"To stop the ghosts," said Jack. "To stop the war."

"No," said the boy, shaking his head, hard.

Was this denial a sign that this was an impostor, or something else? Stockholm syndrome?

"Why not?" asked Maddie. "Don't you want to stop the ghosts from hurting anyone else? From taking anyone else?"

"You..." The boy had shrunk in on himself shoulders hunched, and he took another step back, away from Jack and Maddie. He looked so different from how he had first appeared, sitting straight and upright on that throne. "You think that the _ghosts_ took me?" He shook his head. "It wasn't ghosts that took me. It wasn't ghosts that- that- cut me open."

"Then who was it?" asked Jack.

"It was- It was them. The white ones. The ones who wear white." He shivered all over, then looked up at Jack and Maddie. "They wanted to put ghost powers into people. They took people from Amity, because we were closest to the ghosts. Do you remember how many people went missing that year?" He looked down, away, and squeezed shut his eyes. "They took me, and they cut me open again, and again, and again, and I screamed, and I screamed, and I screamed until they cut out my voice. I wasn't the only one there." He opened his eyes again, they were wide and haunted, and the backs gleamed faintly green. "Do you want to see the scars?" He turned up the edge of his turtleneck.

Maddie's stomach turned. "Show me," she said.

The boy pulled off his shirt. The scars there were worse than she'd imagined. The worst of them was what was clearly a vivisection scar, but the largest was a twisting branch of lightning. Maddie knew that scar. That was Danny's scar, spiraling over all the birthmarks she had become so familiar with over the years. This was Danny. Or at least, Danny's body.

The shirt went down again. "I can't stop the attacks," said Danny. "I won't stop them. I don't want to. Not until they're all gone. Not until everyone is safe from them, forever. Not until they're all gone and ground into dust."

Danny's mouth quirked up, and that haunted look disappeared from his eyes, as if it had never been there.

"I'm getting close, though," he said, cheerfully. "Soon, everyone will be able to go home. In the meantime, you can stay here, with me. Doesn't that sound like fun?"


	61. Chapter 61

**This is a continuation of worldbuilding, confined, and comfort. I am... moving on with the story. :)**

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Moving On

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Danny pushed the plate away. "Okay," he said, licking salt off his lips. "What do I need to do?"

Clockwork smiled faintly. "You have abilities that you are not entirely aware of, and which you have not exercised," he began. "That's true for most ghosts. Similar to how most humans can sing, and some have perfect pitch, but few of those could, say, sing opera without training."

Danny nodded. "That makes sense."

"It isn't an exact analogy, but it's serviceable. The process the Glass City uses to transform its," Clockwork hesitated, "potential citizens takes advantage of an ability innate to all ghosts. Shapeshifting."

"Shapeshifting?" Danny frowned. He had found that shapeshifting was relatively rare, unless he counted going from legs to a ghostly tail and back.

"It isn't actually _used_ very much," said Clockwork. "To successfully, willfully, shapeshift requires talent, confidence, an image of what to turn into, a certain flexibility of the core, of the mind." Clockwork smiled. "You have all of these. In fact, you may notice, if you think about it, that you use a small degree of shapeshifting with some frequency. And I am not talking about how you change between being human and ghost, although that does have some effect."

"Then wh- Oh. You're talking about how I can, um." He looked at his hand, and let his wrist wisp and pull away from his arm, then reattach. He had done that before. He had split his entire body in half before. Both laterally and across the waist. "But what does that have to do with..." He trailed off, and shivered, unable to bring himself to look at the wings or tail that had been added to his body while he had been held captive in the Glass City.

"The Glass City takes advantage of a ghost's ability to shapeshift by impressing a new image on their cores. That's the purpose of that setup, below the surface. To make your core vulnerable."

Danny put a hand over his chest. That was, frankly, terrifying. A core was everything to a ghost, and while Danny wasn't quite a ghost, it was still important to him, terribly so.

"Then," continued Clockwork, "it tricks your core into thinking that the image it impresses on you is the correct one. The one it should use. What it does not do, what it cannot do, is erase the one you already had. You can change back. You just need to find that image, bring it up, bring it closer." Clockwork's smile turned sad. "I am truly sorry that you had to go through this. It was truly the gentlest way."

"The gentlest way for what?" asked Danny, a little resentfully.

"For you to start learning how to shapeshift. Truly shapeshift. Most ghosts can't. They cannot escape their self-image enough to do so, can't truly imagine looking different, once one excludes, say, differences caused by an increase in power. Even you needed this demonstration. You might have developed the ability anyway, but..." Clockwork's mouth grew flat and thin. "Those paths are not ideal. Those where you did not learn at all are... I won't trouble you with them."

Clockwork wasn't one to exaggerate about that kind of thing. Danny swallowed heavily. "I need to learn, you mean? Or else something bad will happen."

"There are many possibilities," said Clockwork. "But... before your encounter with the Glass City, that was definitely the case."

Danny nodded. "Okay. Okay. I understand. How do I- How do I do this?"

"First," said Clockwork, "you need to rest. We have all the time in the world to work through it, here."


	62. Chapter 62

**Note, this is a different deathday headcannon than I used in Grandfather Clocks.**

 **Also: I'm done! I did it! And Dannymay, too! My writing brain cells are fried. :D**

 **I do want to apologize to everyone who reviewed! I usually try to give some response, but well. See above. I really do love getting your reviews. They're fun to read, so thank you, very, very much. Super special thanks to MrsFrizzle, Anne Camp, Purest of the Hearts, 17, and .106 for sending me so many.**

 **If anyone would like to use one of the ideas in here for a longer fic, feel free! Just tell me so I can read it.**

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Free Day

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It was traditional, among the Dead, to give gifts to people on their Deathday, if one knew when that was. The tradition had percolated through the ghostly community, and most ghosts, even if they were Neverborn or Deathless, were aware of it, and practiced it. Now, it wasn't common for one of the Dead to tell their Deathday, it was a personal, and traumatic, thing. Hence the gifts, a way to sweeten something bitter, overwrite the bad with something good.

Danny wasn't expecting any gifts on his Deathday. For one thing, he wasn't entirely sure that he even qualified as a ghost, let alone Dead. For another, he didn't exactly run around telling random ghosts the date of his untimely maybe-demise.

He might have gotten gifts from Jazz, Sam, or Tucker, if he had told them about the tradition. Which he hadn't. He'd felt like telling them about a tradition where they would be obligated to give him gifts would be tacky.

Clockwork showing up with a little box had been unexpected.

Danny blinked at the time ghost through the blue-gray tint of stopped time. He blushed.

He had decided to ride out the unpleasant date by staying in bed all day. It was August, so his parents hadn't really questioned him when he said he had caught a cold, and wanted to rest. That wasn't the embarrassing part. The embarrassing part was that he had turned his bed into a nest of blankets and pillows, and had wrapped himself _very_ securely. So securely that he wasn't sure if he could get himself out in a hurry without phasing through the sheets.

"Hi," he said, trying and failing not to sound strangled.

"Hello, Daniel," said Clockwork, smoothly changing from his elder form to his somewhat less threatening child form. He offered up the box. "For your Deathday."

Danny struggled with the sheets for a second, then decided to swallow his pride and phase out. Once on top of the sheets, he straightened his (frayed and ratty) pajamas, and took the box.

"Thank you," he said. He was sure his face was bright red, but Clockwork, thankfully didn't comment.

He opened the box. Inside was a small glass sphere, about as long across as a fingernail, filled with sparkling, swirling, black sand. It was attached to a loop of black ribbon that looked just long enough to go over Danny's head.

"What is it?" he asked, holding the sphere between his thumb and forefinger.

"A free day," said Clockwork. "Twenty-four hours of stopped time," he elaborated when Danny gave him a confused look. He leaned forward and put a hand on Danny's shoulder. "When you want it, break the glass. You need not use it wisely."

Then Clockwork was gone. Danny looked down at the sphere. The sand had stopped moving. Okay. That was cool. A free day. That was...

Danny blinked and groaned. "Okay, okay, I get it. The gift of _time._ You're as bad as I am." He was smiling, though, as he looped the ribbon over his neck.

It was a good gift.


End file.
